To Follow The Music
by Kitty29
Summary: Gilbert's awesome band is ready to take it all the way to the top! Only one problem. They don't have a singer. However, his problem is solved when he hears the voice of his saviour. Now if only he can find him...
1. Prologue

**Hey guys, Kitty29 here with a new story. I know I shouldn't be posting a new story, especially when I have like three other stories going but this idea just wouldn't leave me alone and I know it's gonna be a short story anyway (less than ten chapters) so it's all gooodddd...  
I will be upping this up to M for what I have planned for other chapters but for now it's fine at T.**

**Anyways, I've always wanted to go a story about music(even though I don't know much about it) so I'm happy to finally be able to post one! Please read and enjoy! ^^  


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The band had just finished a full run through of their newest song, which was written and composed by their guitarist and vocalist Gilbert Beilschmidt. The song had gone without a hitch, obviously, especially since it was the awesomely awesome Gilbert Beilschmidt's band and not some amateur garage band. Yep, it was awesome, it was flawless it—

"Sucks," Commented the bassist, Arthur Kirkland.

"Yeah, it...it wasn't that good." Antonio Fernandez Carriedo agreed, scratching the back of his neck with one of his drum sticks. Gilbert scoffed as if insulted.

"Hey! It was written by the awesome me! Meaning that it is awesome in itself!"

"Oh, get off your bloody high horse!" Arthur called, picking up a nearby hacky sack and throwing it at Gilbert, who blocked it with his forearm.

"Well, the lyrics were good!" Antonio quickly called from his drums. "And the music was fine but..."

Gilbert raised an eyebrow at him. "But...? But what? It was perfection plain and simple I—"

"It's your voice, it's sucks. It doesn't fit the song." Arthur dead panned, reaching down and grabbing a soda. "Or this band for that matter. It makes our sound shit."

Gilbert scowled at the bassist though a small—unawesome—voice in the back of his head agreed. He turned to look at Antonio instead of beating the shit out of his band mate. The drummer avoided his eye contact and ducked a little behind his instrument, obviously showing that he shared the Brits opinion.

His voice was awesome, as was the rest of him, but clearly not the kind of awesome they needed to make this band truly...awesome. And though he agreed with Arthur the only thing he could do was cross his arms and send him a hateful glare. "Fuck you. Like your voice is any better."

Arthur just returned the glare before he took a swing from his drink. Arthur wasn't a bad singer, in fact, he was good. But that was the problem. Good. They needed great.

"So what do we do, amigos?" Antonio asked with a sigh, slumping against his drums. They had discussed having a band for almost a year and although work and personal matters pushed it back they still wrote and composed countless songs for it. To hit a snag so big and so quickly was disheartening.

Gilbert huffed looking elsewhere in thought. Though because he was so awesome, he was able to quickly come up with a solution.

"Don't worry," He said with his infamous smirk large on his face. "I know _just_ the person."

/ / / \ \ \

"No."

"Ah! _C'mon!_ You haven't even heard all of my proposal!"

The Austrian sighed and turned back to the albino, knowing that he wouldn't leave him alone until he at least fully listened to what he had to say. "What?"

Gilbert smiled, seeing as he had the Austrian's attention. "Join my band as my singer and I swear as soon as we hit it big, which we fucking will, you'll have all the money, booze and women as you want."

"No." Came Roderich's immediate reply before he turned back towards his home. Or at least that was his intention before a certain someone grabbing his arm stopped him.

"Come on, Rod!" Gilbert reasoned—but not begged, the awesome Gilbert never begs. "You're the best singer I know! Way better then those talentless hacks that have more money then they should! With your voice and my band we could go far!"

"Gilbert! What part of 'no' is not understandable?" Roderich said, tugging his arm away from the other. "I _do not_ want to be a part of _your_ band! I have a _real_ job now." Though he was still talking angrily, the last part held just the right amount of smugness to make Gilbert frown. "A job that I love. I have no time for your high school band."

"Dammit Rod we're not even in high school anymore!" Gilbert yelled to the retreating figure of his supposed saviour. He growled before turning around and kicking the trashcan that was there, cussing further when it proved to be empty. Damn he needed a cigarette.

Though instead of giving in to the craving he was trying to quit he took a deep breath and started to walk away. He knew he would be back tomorrow and he was sure that by then Roderich would have slept on it and realized how much of an awesome idea it was. Yeah, of course he would. Seriously the guy just has a stick a bit too far of his ass to realize awesomeness right away. A smile tugged on his lips as he rounded the corner. Yep, that's exactly what would happen.

Meanwhile, Roderich entered his house and closed the door behind him with a sigh. That Gilbert. Even after getting out of that hell hole they called high school he still managed to find ways to bug him.

"Is there something wrong, Mr. Edelstein?"

Roderich looked up at the timid teen in front of him and forced a small smile. "Ah, Matthew. Thank you for coming." He made sure to lock the door—never know what that guy might try—before he walked further into his house. "I apologize for being late."

Matthew shook his head. "O-Oh no, I'm sorry for being early I just..." He paused and looked back admiringly at the baby grand he was currently seated in front of. "I had music in my head again."

Roderich raised an eyebrow at this. "Oh?" Matthew moved over on the bench so the dark haired man could take a seat next to him. "Do you mind...?"

Matthew shook his head, positioning himself so he could start. He took a small shaky breath before he started. Even though Roderich was possibly the only person that he could play for, he was still a bit nervous doing so.

Roderich closed his eyes as he listened, the melody smooth and slow. It wasn't perfect, there were a few awkward parts here and there but it certainly held much potential.

"Wonderful, Matthew." He commented when the young boy had finished playing. He was certainly proud to say that he was the one that taught him. A small smile tugged on Matthew lips though almost as soon as it appeared his bowed his head and got up from the bench.

"I-It has lyrics too," Matthew further continued, grabbing his backpack and leafing though the many papers inside.

Again, Roderich raised an eyebrow. "Lyrics...?" He repeated. He was used to the boy composing some of his own short piano melodies but lyrics? This was certainly a first.

Matthew cheeks turned a faint pink when he pulled the paper he was looking for out of his bag. "Y-yes. I-I was hoping maybe you could look over it...? I-I mean!" He looked away from his teacher as he handed him the sheet. "I-If you want to i-i-it's really okay if you don't..." He trailed off as the older male looked over his paper fumbling with his school vest and nibbling on his bottom lip. He only felt himself getting more and more nervous as the seconds inched by and his teacher just sat there, focusing solely on the words scrabbled across the page. The full minute of silence was too much of the blond to handle and right as Roderich was finished Matthew began to spatter out excuses.

"I-I know it's not that good. I-it's just the first drift and I was d-d-distracted with my math class and I might have messed up a few words and I-I—"

"_Matthew,"_ The name instantly shut him up and Roderich sighed. Yes the boy was very polite and equally if not more talented but his intense timidness was rather annoying. "They are beautiful."

Truly it was, and honestly Roderich was fairly surprised that a boy as young as seventeen was able to write them. Matthew allowed the smallest and most timid of smiles to linger on his face before he reached forward and took back the paper from his teachers hand and stuffed it back in his back pack. Almost as if he let it be in light for any longer then needed someone would burst from the shadows and steal them.

"The piano needs work but—" Roderick shook his head and stood from the bench. They had gotten far off track, there was a reason Matthew was here in the first place. "I am sorry but can we please talk of this later?"

Matthew nodded, knowing that his teacher had called him here on this unusual day for something other then his own personal hobby's. "R-Right, I'm sorry for the distraction..."

Roderich just ignored the boys usual timidness before he led him into his dining room. When there he made sure to offer the boy a drink or snacks—which he declined—before he got to the issue.

"Matthew, you know the spring recital is coming up,"—he couldn't help but notice the blond physically flinch at the mention of it—"and I want you, one of my best pupils, to play there."

Matthew shook his head softly, looking down at his lap. "I'm sorry, but I-I can't this time. I j-just can't find the time with school and...and stuff." He finished lamely, again toying with his school vest.

"Matthew you have been using that excuse for the last three performances, and I'm beginning to become a little annoyed at your absence." Matthew shrunk at his words, his face utterly hidden from the Austrian. "I know you become nervous when playing for others but if you want to be a true performer you must get through this fear." He stopped talking to allow the other to add in his two cents, but he was only greeted with silence. He would have thought the other had fallen asleep if not for the constant fumbling of his vest.

"Matthew?" He said but the boy didn't move an inch. A bit of concern raising in him he reached forward to shake the blond from his thoughts. Though as soon as his skin contacted with the Canadian's Matthew practically leaped away from the touch.

"I-I'm sorry Mr. Edelstein." He apologized. "B-But I have to go. I'll see you tomorrow for class, sir!"

And before Roderich could even speak another word the boy was gone.

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**I have no lyrical writing skills so hopefully I can find a way around showing Matt's lyrics**  
**Any help with a name for Gil's band would be awesome. I am so bad with names **

**Thank you for reading an****d**** please review and tell me what you think!  
Less than three everyone. Less than three.**


	2. In Which Gilbert Finds The Voice

**Hey guys! Kitty29 here with the second chapter of 'To Follow The Music.' Wrote this while trying to decide which why I should start chapter 17 of 'Colours'. I know how I'm gonna start it now, all I have to do it actually write it...**

**Enjoy and review!  


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Today's the day! The new day! The day that his band would finally get the singer that they so desperately needed. Gilbert was so happy that he actually skipped down the street towards the uptight Austrian's home, gathering stares from the few people on the street but he didn't care. Today was going down in history as the day his band gained their amazingly talented singer.

Note to self. Come up with a name for the band so that it _can_ go down in the history books.

Gilbert bounced up the steps two at a time, so confident that the other was expecting him that he was sure that the door was unlocked. His theory was disproved as soon as he tried to open the door. Shit, damn Austrian and his not letting people walk into his house. Well whatever, this was just another funny point in the story he would tell during the countless interviews he was sure to get. He smirked before he went around to try the back door, only to see that that was locked too, before he went back to the front and sat down. Resting his back against the white door he waited for the dark haired man to come back. For obviously he had just walked out for a bit and thought that he could get back before Gilbert came. Duh.

After a good five minutes of sitting in silence (let us be reminded that this is Gilbert we're talking about and five minutes in silence was certainly something impressive) a sound wafted through the door and into his ears. At first it caught him off guard, as he was not expecting anyone to be in the house, but then he felt anger. Had that Austrian been inside there all this time playing his piano and ignored the awesomeness that is himself? Why, it was madness! It was unacceptable! Such deeds should be against the law!

Though as he continued to listen he realized that this was not Roderich. Because of his awesome musical sense he would pick out Roderich's playing from a line of pianists (not to mention he heard more than his fair share of the Austrian's rage induced Chopin playing) and he could conclude that this definitely was not Roderich. The person who was playing was good, but not nearly as talented.

That of course brought on another question. Who was this new person who managed to get himself into the locked house? And why wasn't he letting him in? Seriously, these acts should be against the law. The law. God. _Dammit._

He was just about to jump up and knock on the door when a new sound hit his ears. No, not his ears. It penetrated through his whole body and caused his breath to catch in his throat.

That voice... That voice...

Even with its quality muffed through the door, even though he couldn't hear the words being song that voice was just so...

Wonderful, beautiful, wicked, fantastic, fabulous, smashing, bon, maravilloso, the bomb, the bees frinkin' knees, it was... _Awesome._

And it was _exactly_ what he was looking for. Just thinking about _that_ voice singing _his_ songs actually gave him a bit of a hard on, _that's_ how good it was.

"Gilbert?"

Well, that just caused it to wilt. He looked up to see the owner of the house walking down the front path, a bag of what Gilbert assumed to be groceries in hand. The confusion on Roderich's face only lasted a moment for he quickly realized just what the Prussian was here for. His face then took on an expression of annoyance as he continued to walk up the path to his house. "Gilbert, I told you I will _not_ be a part of your band!"

Roderich's raised voice caused whoever was playing inside to stop dead and Gilbert cussed under his breath. He would punch himself in the face to hear that voice again_._

"Fine, whatever, don't be in my band. You're not awesome enough anyway." Gilbert scoffed before deciding this would be a good time to stand. "Just let me in your house, okay?"

The hand that was digging in his pocket for the house keys stalled and he stopped walking to give the albino a suspicious stare. "And why should I do that?"

"Because I have been out here for quite some time and would really like a glass of water, if you don't mind."

...Is what Gilbert should have said, but in his excitement, what came out was, "Have you _heard_ whoever's inside sing? _Holy fucking batshit_, Rod! He's _wwaaaaayyyy_ better than you! I **_need _**him for my band!"

As soon as those last words left his lips Roderich got defensive. "Get off my property." He demanded, narrowing his eyes at his former school mate. Gilbert groped at him.

"Come _ON! _Five minutes that's all I want!"

As Gilbert walked towards him Roderich angled his body so that the pocket holding his key was facing away from the albino.

"You can't make his decisions for him! Just let me in! Or bring him out, I don't care!"

"And I told you to get off my property! I will not have you harassing one of my students!"

Gilbert smirked. "Aha! So it's one of your students!"

In his head Roderich cussed at himself. Though that information wasn't anything too impressive, as he had multiple students, he rather the other not know anything about any of them.

"I just want to talk to him Rod! _That's fucking it!"_

"I said _NO!_"

"HEY!"

A new, loud third voice caused the two arguing males to look over at the neighbouring house where a certain Swiss police officer lived. And it was that same Swiss police officer that was glaring at the two of them, his hand rested threateningly on top of his gun. "Is there a _problem?"_

Knowing that he now had an ally Roderich looked back at Gilbert smugly. Gilbert looked between the two males and scowled. He locked eyes with Roderich and gave him one of his more intimidating stares that would have normally made people do whatever he wanted. Though because it was Roderich, a man who had more than four years of these stares, he didn't even flinch but met it with a glare of his own.

"...No problem," Gilbert said, his eyes never leaving the Austrian's face. "I was just leaving."

The Swiss man relaxed and crossed his arms over his chest though he didn't take his eyes away from Gilbert until he was away from the Austrian's lot and quite far up the street.

Well that didn't go quite as planned but hell, have to look on the good side! He found his singer! Though he knew nothing about him or even what he looked like. For all he knew he could be as uptight as his teacher but fuck it! He, the great Gilbert Beilschmidt, may be walking away now (and only because he wanted to not because he was scared or anything. That would be stupid) but he would be back. Ohoho he would. Be. BACK!

No one would stand between him and his future front man. No. Fucking. One.

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"Matthew, would you mind staying the night?"

Matthew blinked at his piano teachers' request. It wasn't like he had never stayed the night before; in fact he had stayed the night many times. Mostly because his piano lessons some times ran a bit late, late enough that Roderich's girlfriend Elizabeta already had dinner ready and insisted that Matthew stay and eat with them. Of course, by the time the dinner was over it was quite late and she didn't like the thought of the young boy taking the bus back to his home, which was a good forty or so minutes away, and would drive him back. Though, after realizing that their house was closer to Matthew's school than his own decided that it would be better if he instead stayed in the guest room.

So what Roderich was asking of him wasn't partially strange. What was strange however, was the fact that he was asking in the first place. Him staying over was something that usually just happened. Nevertheless, he nodded.

"Oh, well, okay. I just have to call my dad and make sure it's okay."

Roderich nodded back. "That's fine, you can call him after class."

The reason he wanted him to stay over was, well, it was Gilbert. Though he hated to admit it, Gilbert made him nervous. With his unpredictable behaviour he honestly wouldn't be surprised if he was outside or just down the street waiting for the young boy so that they could 'talk', as he so put it. Or whatever his real motive was.

A light sigh escaped him and he rubbed his temple. 'Would that white haired, red eyed weirdo ever leave him alone?' He was felt forced to question.

The blond slowed in his playing so that he could glance up at the dark haired male with his large, violet blue eyes. "Is something wrong?"

Roderich just released another sigh before he forced a small smile. "No, it fine. Remember to watch your hands, they're dropping."

Matthew turned back and fixed his easy mistake with a small blush before the two continued the lesson.

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"So where's our singer?"

It was the first thing the Brit asked when he walked into the familiar basement and flopped down on the couch across from the guitarist. If Gilbert had not been idly plucking at his guitar he probably would have at least punched the other but for now he could care less.

"You know what, fuck Roderich," He said simply. Though the anger he felt didn't show on his face his playing became a bit harsher to make up for it.

Arthur smirked at guitarist. "Didn't think he would say yes. Especially to join a band _you_ put together."

Gilbert chose to ignore that. "Stupid Austrian and his piano. But screw him, I found someone ten times better anyway and—" He abruptly stopped both his playing and speaking to look around the room with a frown. "Where the _fuck_ is Antonio?"

"Here I am!"

Two seconds later the person known as Antonio sped down the stairs, looking positively out of breath. He stopped at the bottom of the steps to rest his hands on his knees, breathing heavily.

"S-Sorry...I'm late." He huffed, reaching up to run a hand though his hair and almost poking himself in the eye with the drumsticks he forgot he was carrying. "Lost track...studying..."

"Yeah, yeah, studying is hard but it's worth it so that you can become the world's gayest nurse. We get it." Gilbert scowled, obviously not in a good mood. "Just sit down."

Antonio complied and took a seat next to Arthur who greeted him with a curt nod. Gilbert opened his mouth to speak again but was cut off when Antonio suddenly leaped off the couch.

"Oh! I almost forgot!" A large cheery smile that only the Spaniard could pull off and not look like a total dork appeared on his face. "I ran into someone on the way here!" He then turned to the stairs and called up, "You can come down now!"

"Bonjour, mes amis!"

Arthur let out a growl before he put his head in his hands. He knew exactly who that was even before he saw him. Oh why did that frog have to be the best of friends with his band mates and insist on coming during band time? Just bloody hell, why?

Francis Bonnefoy walked down the steps with his ever so charming smile on his face. "Ah, I have not seen everyone in so long! I even missed this mouldy basement!"

"Hey, the mould was taken out last week thank you very much," Gilbert said with a frown. Francis simply shrugged, too happy to argue with the clearly cross Prussian. He moved to take a sit next to Arthur.

"_NO._" The Brit deadpanned, glaring at the Frenchman as he slapped a hand down on the spot the blond was about to sit. Francis again shrugged, still too thrilled to see everyone to care before he sat next to Gilbert instead. Had it really already been nearly a year? With the way he was getting treated it was like he was here just yesterday.

"It's awesome to see you Franny, and after this we're probably going to go drinking but for now I need you to just sit down and shut up," Gilbert stated and in response Francis let out a sexy growl.

"So _demanding_. Oh Gily you know how much that turns me oonnnn." He began rubbing his nipples though his shirt with a smile causing Antonio to laugh merrily while Arthur rolled his eyes and turned away to hide his blush.

Even Gilbert found a smile on his face as he pushed the blond away playfully. "Slut." He said with a small laugh. "But seriously shut up, band mates! Two things!" He planted his feet firmly on the ground and held up two fingers to the musicians. "First of all, he need a fucking name. Which wouldn't be a problem if _governor_ over here let us be 'The Awesomes.'"

"I refuse to be in a band with such an egotistical name!" Arthur countered. "Some emo band on Myspace probably has that name anyway."

Gilbert made a face but considered this a valid point. "Second order of business," At this he smiled triumphantly. "I found us a new singer."

Both of his mates were shocked by the news.

"Really?" Antonio asked in awe. "What is he like? Do I know him? Or is it a her? I always thought that some of our songs were better suited for a girl, especially that one that involves groaning in it and—"

"Someone other than Roderich?" Arthur interrupted, knowing that if he waited until Antonio finished he would be sitting here for hours.

Gilbert nodded, awaiting his praise.

"What's their name?"

Gilbert frowned. "I don't know." He admitted. "But! I _do_ know that he's one of Rod's students, so if we stick around his house for a bit I be we ca—"

"So you don't even know if he _wants_ to be our singer?" Arthur crossed his arms and sunk deeper into the couch. "_Great."_

"You know who's a good singer?" Francis spoke up, having already forgotten about staying quiet. "My cousin, Matheiu. He's rather shy about it th—"

"_Francis."_ Gilbert turned to glare at the other. "Screw your cousin. The guy I'm talking about is probably ten times better."

Though the Frenchman only heard the first part. He licked his lips as he drew up a mental picture of his relative. "I would if we were not related."

Gilbert just stared. "...Gross."

"Incest aside," Arthur quickly cut in. "Even if he does want to join us how will we find someone we know nothing about?"

"I told you." Gilbert crossed his arms, careful of his guitar, and rolled his eyes at the other. "We go back to Rod's house and—"

"Oh, so we stalk him? Wonderful plan."

"No! Let me speak Eyebrows!"

Arthur narrowed his eyes at him and mumbled something about hating that name before he waited for the other to continue.

"This guy is a student of Rod's right? This means they probably have some kind of teaching schedule set up or something. So all we have to do is come back next week and catch the kid as he leaves! It's that easy."

He leaned back and smiled, obviously thinking that his plan was the best plan ever. Antonio and Arthur both exchanged looks.

"Is he...is he really worth so much trouble?" Antonio asked with a small shrug. He didn't like being the one with the negative view but well, someone had to say it.

Gilbert smile just grew as he thought back to that amazing voice, though he knew even what his brain remembered wasn't as good as the real deal. "You should have heard it, Toni. It was probably...no, it _was_ the most _awesome_ voice I've ever heard. It was just so..._raw _and..._ emotional. _Just hearing it made me remember the reason I wanted to start a band. It wasn't in the pursuit of money, fame or sex. It's because of the music." As if to prove his point he began to pluck a simply melody. "I want to whole world to hear the music I had in my head for as long as I could remember. And that voice, that voice man..." He laughed and paused in his playing to try and find the right words. "That voice is exactly what I imaged when I wrote my shit."

Everyone was quiet after Gilbert's speech, only the sound of the guitar being played saving them from complete silence.

"...Okay." Antonio finally said. "Let's do it. Let's find this singer."

Arthur nodded. "He better be bloody good with the way you describe him. If he turns out to be some tosser I'm leaving the band and moving back with my mum in England."

"Fuck yeah he is! He was hand chosen by the awesome me! So of course he is!" He then took off the guitar and placed in on its stand beside him. "Anyways!" He slapped Francis' knee as he stood. "Enough band shit! It's time to get fucking _smashed!"_

And within a minute the four men were gone from the basement in a chorus of cheers and yelling.

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**I have way too much fun writing things from Gilbert's preservative. He's just so...so..._awesome_. Next chapter will be mostly about Matthew and his shy self.**

**About the 'me mum' part...I know Arthur wouldn't say that but i couldn't help it. Also just found out how fun it is to write Antonio. That clumsy lovable goof. **

**Anyone who has ideas for Gil's band that would be lovely!  
**

**Thank you **Organized Kitty Chaos, IchigoMelon, XxTehSparklepirexX, MAH, kind-of-heart **and** vine** for the reviews!**


	3. In Which Gilbert Saves The Kid

**Or 'In Which Gilbert is the Almighty Awesome Saviour of the Earth' but it didn't fit :I**

**Hey guys! Kitty29 here with the third chapter of 'To Follow The Music.' It's in this chapter that it begins to get a bit more serious (but not completely, it can never be with Gilbert)**

**Gah, why the heck am I writing so much? Seriously, not cool, stop you hardcore writing inspiration. I curse you hard. Pssstttt...**

**Enjoy and review!  


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Instead of remembering the trivializes such as the exact date he instead focused on how many days until he would obtain his wonderful singer, which was, as of now, about four and a half days away. He was so happy at that fact that he didn't even bitch about the sudden chill that somehow managed to find his way into his clothes as he walked.

Still though, where the hell did that chill come from? It may be night but it was sill frinkin' June for fucks sake.

...Okay so maybe he was bitching a bit but fuck it he could do whatever he wanted. It was his thoughts.

The albino rubbed his bare arms in an attempt to gather some kind of warmth as he walked. About five hours earlier he had a sudden burst of inspiration and so ran (okay bussed but ran sounds more epic) over to Antonio's school to force him to help write up a song instead of studying. Though the Spaniard was practically dead due to the all-nighter he had pulled the night before to finish up a paper, he still managed to think up a pretty decent tune(with a drum solo, of course). Gilbert stayed until he was kicked out by a couple of Antonio's medical friends who noticed that their friend desperately needed sleep and the albino was the only thing between him and the bed.

So here's where Gilbert was now. He took the bus to get back home but had gotten off a bit earlier so that he could take the shortcut though the park. He hummed the melody that he and his drummer had just come up with as he ventured on, looking down at the sheet that contained the lyrics. It may have been just the first drift and needed some serious fine tuning before he could officially call if awesome it was still pretty damned catchy. His singer would love it! He'd have to be a frinkin' vegetable to not love it!

He cussed quite loudly when a sudden strong gust of wind blew the paper out of his hand. He immediately gave chase.

"Get back here you fucking—!"

Dammit he wasn't going to lose the song he had been working on for the last four hours! _Especially _ not when he had to slap his friend awake every two minutes so that it could get written! The paper flew off towards a nearby park bench and Gilbert thanked whatever god was on his side that there was someone sitting there. The paper caught under the unknowns foot and stayed unmoving, effectively trapped. Gilbert slowed to a stop as the stranger reached down and picked it up. They held it out to the albino but didn't look up at him.

"Uh, thanks," Gilbert said, taking back his lyrics and stuffing them in his pocket before he looked over the suspicious looking kid. They were dressed in black from head to toe with a baggy hood covering their face. Their clothes were so big on them that Gilbert couldn't even tell if it was a girl or a boy. Though with the others small fame and the bit of longish blond hair that poked out of the hood he assumed it to be a her.

But the black wasn't the oddest thing about her. The oddest thing was the hockey stick she was clutching onto as if t was some kind of life saver. Huh, but whatever. He would be more surprised if he found her to be some normal kid siting there at this time at night. The weirdos always came out after hours.

"What the hell are you doing here so late, huh? Shouldn't you be at home or something, kid?"

The younger person flinched at the others accusation and turned away even further. Gilbert raised an eyebrow at the, he assumed to be young, girls reaction. He wondered what could have caused a reaction like that when he noticed it. Resting against her legs were two bags that, though small, looked like they were stuffed to the brim. She had too much stuff to be homeless and looked far to young to be some kind of backpacker. That left just one last opinion.

She was a run away.

Gilbert suddenly felt himself sympathetic. As he was also a ran away he could relate to the girls distress. He moved over and sat on the bench making sure to sit far enough so he wouldn't seem like some paedophile.

"So. Ran away, huh?"

The girl was so surprised at being seen through so quickly that she whipped her head around to look at Gilbert. Her hood was so large, however, that it cast heavy shadows over her face(that fact that the nearest street lamp was behind her didn't help either). The only thing that Gilbert would see clearly were her lips, which were parted slightly in shock.

"Don't worry, I'm not gonna report you or anything. I ran away from home too. I know what it's like."

She closed her mouth and turned away from the silver haired man again, her grip on the hockey stick tightening. They stayed in silence for a bit, the girl obviously waiting for the other to leave but Gilbert making no move to do so.

"Do you even know where you're staying tonight?"

She didn't say anything. She didn't have to. Her silence was her answer. With a small chuckle Gilbert stood.

"C'mon, my house is close by. You can stay the night."

Again the girl stared at Gilbert in surprise. Gilbert smiled down at her and waited for her to move so that she could gather up her things. But she did nothing. Just stared. He frowned.

"It's not everyday that people get invited back to my awesome house to sleep over, you know. Plus it gets cold at night."

As if to further prove his point a chilly wind rolled by. The girl shivered and pulled her sweater closer to her body. There was only a moments hesitation before she laid her hockey stick against the bench and swooped down to grab her stuff. After everything was placed back on her she took a deep breath, as if mentally preparing herself to something, before she grabbed the stick and stood.

"Good choice," Gilbert said with a smirk before he began walking slowly so that the girl could follow. "I tell you kid, I wish there was someone as awesome as me to offer a bed when my brother and I ran away from home. Then again their probably isn't anyone who's as awesome as me any..." He trailed off in his rambling to instead stare at the girl as she walked. No, not walked. _Limped._

Now he understood why she had the hockey stick. It wasn't because it was some prized possession or something that she could stand to leave behind. It was because she needed it to be able to walk out of the house in the first place.

Damn... this girl had it a lot worse than he and Ludwig did.

/ / / \ \ \

"Gilbert! _Gilbert!"_

The mentioned albino groaned as the pounding on his door continued. He groggily pushed himself onto his elbows and looked at his clock. 8:34.

...

_8:34? _

"What the _fuck_ West!" Gilbert cried as he flopped back ever so gracefully on his bed. "It's_ fucking_ _eight thirty four_! Why the _fuck _are you waking me up so _fucking early_ you _fucker_!" Pause. "_Fuck_!"

The male on the other side of the door chose to ignore all of his older brother's swears. "East, there is a random person in our kitchen who says you invited them to stay the night. Should I be concerned?"

What? A random person...?

"Oh," Gilbert said as he remembered the runaway from the night before. "Oh right. Do me a favour and make 'em breakfast or something, kay?"

Just before the albino began to fall asleep again his brother responded with something that gained his interest. "But East, he's the one making breakfast for us."

This was enough to get Gilbert out of bed for two reasons. First, shit that guy was a guy? Damn he needed to eat more. Second, no one ever cooked for them, ever. At least not using their kitchen. The last time someone tried(which was a certain Brit) it had ended with blacken goo on the ceiling that took a whole month to get off. So imagine his surprise when he walked into his kitchen and found it, not only not on fire, but smelling of delicious...pancakes?

As soon as he entered the room the boy looked up from the stove to smile at him. He wasn't dressed in all black like the night before, instead he wore a simple long sleeved shirt, some simple blue jeans and a rather cute light grey hat. He was a young teen of possibly sixteen of so with longish blond hair and large violet blue eyes. Huh, weird colour. Then again his were red soooo...

The kid's gaze wondered down to his chest before he blushed and looked away. Confused, Gilbert looked down at himself and realized that in his usual morning daze he had forgotten to throw on a shirt and had instead just wondered out in his boxers. Oh well, at least he didn't have morning wood. Now _that_ would be awkward.

"Shit you're a guy," Was the first thing that Gilbert decided to say to the young boy as he shuffled a yawn.

Though the blond didn't seem find any offence to it at all as he turned off the stove and turned back to the albino. "I wanted to thank you for letting me stay so I made breakfast. I-I hope you don't mind that I used your stuff..."

"...Shit, you talk," Gilbert said rather elegantly in response. Slightly annoyed, Ludwig decided that now would be a good time to push past his shorter brother and make his way into the kitchen.

"It's fine. I'm Ludwig by the way," The German introduced as he grabbed the plates of food and carried them to the table(for he too noticed the boy's limp and rather him not walk around more than necessary). "And this is Gilbert."

Gilbert raised his hand half heartily before he went over to the table and dropped himself down in a chair. "Yeah that's the awesome me. Sorry about having to sleep on top of the couch I just remembered we have a pull out bed."

Ludwig sent his brother a disapproving stare but the Prussian pointy ignored it in favour of piling stacks of pancakes on his plate. The young boy just nodded before he began his slow and, slightly painful to watch, way out of the kitchen, leaning heavily on the counters as he went. Gilbert didn't even notice. He grabbed the maple syrup he rarely used and drizzled some on top of the flat cakes. He was half asleep at the time but as soon as he bit into that fluffy piece of heaven he was fully awake.

Holy shit.

_Holy shit._

_HOLY FUCKING SHIT._

These were the best pancakes in the history of the world._ EVER._

"You are not eating with us?"

His brother's gruff voice knocked him from his thoughts and he looked up to see the blond swinging his last bag over his shoulder and grabbing hold of his hockey stick.

"N-no, you've done more then enough. Thank you very much for letting me stay but I have to go."

Wait, what? No. This kid couldn't leave, not when he could make pancakes this _awesome._ He had to find some way to get the kid to at least stay another day, just long enough so that he'll make these pancakes again tomorrow. He needed something clever, something that only the awesome him could think of...

But in the end Gilbert didn't have to do anything. For only after one feeble step towards the door the boy collapsed to the ground. Both brothers were up and running to his side as soon as he was down.

"Are you okay?" Ludwig asked the dazed teen. The boy just nodded before he attempted to push himself off the ground but just couldn't seem to gather the strength and flopped back down.

"No, I-I'm fine, really," the boy insisted, when after the second attempt at gathering himself up failed. Ludwig was obviously not convinced and bent down to easily host up the boy bridal style. The boy squeaked at suddenly being in the air but could only grab onto the others shirt and try not to fall as he was carried. He was gently settled down on the comfortable couch in the next room over before he felt a large hand rest against his forehead.

"He's running a fever," Ludwig said to his brother who simply watched from the sidelines, not to sure what to do.

"N-N-No really I'm fine, rea-really I-I—" Before the boy could continue to deny his obviously ill state he quickly slapped a hand over his mouth and lunched into body wracking hacks. It was so bad that every time the kid coughed it looked like his body went though a mini spasm. Though it was actually a bit funny to watch Gilbert couldn't help but feel useless as he could think of nothing to help the small boy. As the boy continued to cough that hat he was wearing slipped off his head and now the two man could see why he wanted his head covered. Starting from the side of his face and stretching out past his hair line was a very nasty bruise that looked fairly recent.

"Shit..." Ludwig started and Gilbert couldn't help but turn his stare to his brother. Ludwig nearly ever swore. This had to be serious. "I think he needs to go to the hospital."

"We can't go to the hospital," Gilbert stated and Ludwig frowned at him.

"Why?"

"'Cause he's a run away! If we take him to the hospital they're just gonna contact his family and he'll go back to whatever ass hole did..." He gestured to the bruise. "_That_ to him."

"...Fine. What should we do?"

"...Give me your phone."

The German complied before he left to go get some water for the sick blond. Quickly Gilbert dialled the number he had in mind, he just hoped he wasn't busy. At this time of day he was either getting ready for class or drooling on top of a thick textbook. Thankfully it was proven to be the latter as a very groggy voice answered with a slurred 'hello?'

"Antonio!" Gilbert called into the phone. "I need you to bring all your medical shit down here as fast as you can!"

The Spaniard sounded much more awake when he spoke next. Probably because he sensed the distress in his friends voice. "Gilbert? Gilbert what's wrong?"

"I got a kid here with a temperature and some...well...bruising that I need you to look at."

There was a pause before there was some shuffling over on Antonio's side. "I'll be there in fifteen minutes." He guaranteed before hanging up the phone.

The teen, now over his coughing spell, quickly put his hat back on even though he knew the damage had been done. Again, he tried to get up but Gilbert pushed him back down.

"Damn kid you're a stubborn one," the Prussian commented. The blond turned away from the other.

"I-I don't want to bother you..."

Huh, really weird kid. If Gilbert looked was as sick as he was they couldn't get him to move if they dangled a steak in front of him. Here this kid couldn't wait to leave.

"Kid, leaving would be _more_ of a bother to me," Gilbert stated. "If I turn on the news and find you dead ten feet from my house the cops will be all up my ass. So you staying would really be more of a benefit to me."

The young male didn't reply but he physically relaxed back into the couch. Fifteen minutes then passed with no excitement (though Gilbert went to throw some clothes on himself when he realized his half naked state was making the kid uncomfortable) before the door slammed open to reveal the Spanish man they were waiting on. He wasted no time in heading to where the others were, medical kit in hand and stethoscope thrown sloppy across his shoulders.

"Where is he?" Antonio demanded and Gilbert couldn't help but be taken back by his friends serious expression. He knew how much his drummer loved kids but seriously...whoa.

"He's sleeping on the couch," Ludwig answered for him before he grabbed his brother and lead him away so that Antonio could do...whatever he planned to do.

"Hey, ow, West not so hard!" Gilbert hissed when the others grip was far harsher than needed. Though Ludwig's grip didn't lessen, he didn't even let go into they were back in the kitchen.

"Antonio? _Antonio _is your answer!" Ludwig exclaimed in an angry whisper. "He's a _med student_!"

"Hey! He's almost done med school, fuck!" Gilbert countered back, not following his brothers example of being quiet. "What the hell would be _your _bright idea?"

"This wouldn't have happened in the first place if you didn't bring random people to our house!"

"_Oh_! So now you're saying I should have left the kid to _die?"_

"_No!_ I'm not saying that! I saying that the last time you brought in some random our DVD player went missing! What if this kid turned out to be a murderer?"

"_Fuck West! _This kid could be _fucking dieing_ and all you care about is _yourself_!"

"_AH-HEM."_

The two stopped in their arguing to turn towards a slightly irritated Spaniard, who was leaning against the frame work with his arms crossed. The two looked awkwardly at each other before Gilbert decided to walk away and sit down at the table. Oh right pancakes! With everything going on he forgot about the best breakfast ever.

"How is he?" He heard his brother ask he he took another bite of heaven.

"His fever should go away with rest..." Antonio started with a sigh. "But I'm more concerned about the bruises he has over his body."

"Wait, it's not just his head?" Gilbert asked with a mouth full of pancake. The dark haired man ignored that fact as he shook his head, his expression somber.

"From all the marks it looks like he's been going through this abuse for a while. I wouldn't be surprised if there were some...inner issues. We need to get him to a hospital to take some tests."

"No," Gilbert protested, his pancakes now finished (fastest eater in his family!) "The kid's a run away. We stick him in a hospital and whatever ass that's been hitting the poor kid will know exactly where to find him. Can't you get one of your medical friends to do the tests?"

Antonio bit his lip at the request. Sure he knew people who would do it, but if any of his superiors found out he was using equipment without permission he would be in serious trouble. Especially since he was still a student. But this kid was still so young, he would have to be heartless to not do everything he could to help. With a hesitant nod he agreed. "I...I'll see what I can do."

He turned and left the two alone once more. Ludwig sighed before he moved to sit down at the table, putting his head in his hands. Living with Gilbert was never...boring that he could admit. But truthfully, he would do anything to have just _one_ boring day with his brother.

"I probably saved his life you know," Gilbert said. Ludwig looked up to glare at him

"I'm not calling you the 'almighty awesome saviour of the earth'."

Gilbert smirked before he grabbed onto Ludwig's plate of untouched pancakes and dragged it towards himself. "The fact that you said it is good enough for me."

Though Ludwig had never smoked a cigarette in his life, he wondered if now was a good time to start.

* * *

**I wonder how many times Gilbert used the f-word in just this chapter alone. It must be at least in the double digit mark, that potty mouth.**

**Thank you **zero434, digi-smile, xxassassinxx18, magicattack24, Sybil Corvax, Italiangurlinamessedupworld, ISayWhatWithWho, fairy-hime-108, Chocola Emo Shizzle **and **Ember **for the reviews!  
**


	4. In Which Antonio is Angry

**Or 'In Which Everyone is Angry but Gilbert's Awesomeness Saves the Day.' Ha, I like making up titles for these chapters =D**

**Special thanks to **kind-of-heart, zero434, Italiangurlinamessedupworld, **and** 518ZombiedDreams **for the band name suggestions!**

**Kitty29 here with the forth chapter of 'To Follow The Music for y'all to enjoy. Sorry this chapter isn't as good as the last, I just didn't have many ideas for it, but nest chapter will better I promise ;;**

**Even so, please enjoy!  


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**About an hour of phone calls and calling in favours later Antonio had taken the kid and left but not before promising to text Gilbert on the kid's status every hour on the hour. Truthfully Gilbert was worried about him. His already pale skin only looked paler as he left with his friend to get medical attention. Not to mention he had another hacking fit this one worst than the last. Seriously, Gilbert wouldn't be surprised if the blond threw up his lung with now bad it was. His throat must have felt like fucking sandpaper, poor kid. So as soon as he felt the familiar buzzing of his phone he stopped everything he was doing to flip open the device and read the latest update.

_hes sleepin gettin blood results now_

"Are you going to teach me this song or am I wasting my bloody time being here?"

Gilbert put away his phone and looked back at the moody Brit waiting. Gilbert had asked him to come over about half an hour after the kid left the house so that he would teach him the song he and Antonio had written just yesterday and make adjustments to it. Though Arthur was resistant as first at being called over at such an early hour (before noon! What was Gilbert even doing up?) he eventually came round. So after Gilbert explaining his rather hectic morning to his mate they sat down to work on this song.

"Don't be so heartless," Gilbert replied as he put his phone back in his pocket. "Just checking up on the kid I so awesomely saved and making sure he's not dead."

"Why do you even care so much? I thought you were far too _awesome_ to care about other people." Arthur inquired as he began to pluck the notes he learned so far on his bass.

"He's a runaway, Artie! And runaways gotta stick together," Gilbert answered as he began to play along with his guitar. "When I ran away I had Ludwig there with me, this kid has no one! So I declared myself his awesome temporary guardian!"

"Oh, so you're the one who's going to pay Antonio's bail when he gets arrested for toying with expansive equipment?"

Gilbert narrowed his eyes at the other before he quickened his playing. "Why the hell is everyone so fucking negative? Toni's smarter then he looks! He'll be fine!"

Arthur also narrowed his eyes and matched his pace with Gilbert's. "I still don't see why you couldn't take him to a bloody hospital! Once the staff seen all his wounds I'm sure they would contact the police and they would arrest whoever was abusing the lad in the first place! Or did you even think of that?"

"If the kid wanted the guy to be arrested then he would go to the police not run away! I'm not trying to make decisions for the kid! I'm trying to fucking help him!"

"You bloody say that but you don't even know his name! All I bleeding know about him is that he's young enough to be considered a 'kid!'"

As they argued their music sped up. They were far from playing the song they were trying to learn in the first place. They were just playing for the sake of trying to out play the other.

"You rather I know your fucking _name_ or save your fucking _lif—" _Gilbert abruptly hit a sour note when a buzzing in his pocket knocked him from his focus. He ignored the Brits triumphant smirk as he reached into his pocket and pulled out his device again. A message from Antonio? But it hasn't even been an hour. He quickly flipped open the device his eyes widening as one simple word flashed back up at him.

_bad_

Arthur, noting that the Prussian wasn't yelling at him about cheating or demanding a rematch, became concerned. He took off his instrument and stood. "What's wrong?"

Gilbert didn't say anything about he handed his phone over for the other to see. Arthur frowned.

"Bad? _Bad?_ What's bad? What does that even mean?" Arthur clicked the call button before he raised the phone to his ear.

"Hey! I have to pay for that! Use your own phone!" Gilbert argued trying to grab the phone back but Arthur pushed him back from the head and held the phone far away from him.

"Calm down you fucking berk!" Arthur yelled. "I'm trying to call Anton—straight to voice mail." He scowled before closing the phone and tossing it back to Gilbert who practically swan dived to catch it.

"Well, fuck! Are you sure?" Gilbert exclaimed as he flipped open his phone and tried calling the number as well, only to get the same result. "Shit, you're right."

Arthur rolled his eyes but decided to keep his comments to himself as he went to sit back down on the couch and gather his bass. "Well, all we can do is wait until he calls us back."

Gilbert shook his head. "No! Fuck that! You drove here right?"

"I am not driving us t—"

Some fiesta sounding music filled the room and Gilbert immanently picked up the phone. "Toni! What's goi—"

"_I can't talk for long!" _Antonio interrupted before he shouted something that Gilbert didn't catch. There were a ton of voices and machine noises from Antonio's end and Antonio had to raise his voice so that Gilbert would hear him. "_His fever worsened! I can't keep him a secret anymore!_"

"The fuc—"

"_I'm taking him to the ER!"_

"Wait! Toni you can't do tha—"

"_HAVE YOU BEEN IN MED SCHOOL TRAINING TO BE A FUCKING RESISTERED NURSE FOR FOUR FUCKING YEARS?"_ Antonio suddenly shouted, forcing Gilbert to pull the phone away from his ear. "_IF I DON'T BRIN__G HIM IN HE'S GONNA DIE AND I AM _NOT_ HAVING THAT ON MY CONCIOUS!"_ There was a sound in the background like someone crashing into something and Antonio cussed. "_I have to go."_

Dial tone.

Gilbert simply stared at his phone for a bit, letting what just happened sink in. First, Antonio _yelled_ and _cussed_...at _him_! It took quite a lot for Antonio to get angry, and even more so to get him angry at his friends. Whatever state the kid was in must have been bad. He slumped deeper into the couch he was seating in and turned to Arthur who, because Antonio was talking so loudy, heard the conversation as well.

"...Well, shit," Gilbert finally said. Truthful he couldn't help but feel bad. It had only been a few minutes ago that he had proclaimed himself the kid's 'awesome temporary guardian' and now he was dieing? Well what the fuck was he suppose to do? _Could_ he even do anything?

...No. He couldn't.

And Arthur saw that as well.

"I... we need to finish this song," Arthur supplied. Gilbert shook his head.

"Nah...not this song it's too...happy." He reached over and shifted through the papers until he came across one that was completely blank. He grabbed the pen from behind his ear and started to write. "Let's do something new."

There was a pause before Arthur nodded and leaned forward to read what the Prussian was writing.

/ / / \ \ \

If wasn't until the next day did the two hear from the Spaniard again. He was much calmer this time around and even apologized for yelling. He informed the two that Matthew was stable, though would have to stay for a few days to make sure he was fine and run some tests. He said that they could come and see him if they wanted, but he would probably be asleep.

So that's where they were now. Gilbert, Arthur, Antonio and Ludwig were all outside the young teens room, waiting for the Spaniard to allow them inside.

"Hold up, one thing before we go in," Gilbert stalled. "What's the kid's name?"

Antonio glanced down at copy of the teen's chart he managed to get his hands on. "It's Matthew. Matthew Williams..."

The three band members looked at each other, each with the same question in their eye. Just why did that name sound so familiar...?

They shrugged it off before Antonio opened the door to let them inside. But before Gilbert could even take a step in he felt the wind knocked out of him when a blond something barrelled into him.

"Oh Gil! Thank you for finding mon Matheiu! _Thank you, thank you, merci merci_!"

Francis then preceded to plant sloppy kisses over his face in gratitude, in which Gilbert had to quite literally shove the others face away to get him to stop.

"Holy shit, Franny!" Gilbert exclaimed as he wiped his face, "What the hell are you even doing her..." He trailed off when he looked at the Frenchman(_really_ looked at him) and realized two things.

One, with the long blond hair and same basic face shape he looked just like Matthew! And two, _Matthew!_ He thought he heard that name before. It was from Francis! Mathew was the cousin Francis liked talking about from time to time.

"Wait, _this_ Matthew? _This_ is your cousin?"

At that the other other males looked up shocked.

"No way..."

"They do look similar..."

"Ha! It is funny what a small world this is!"

Francis sighed before he physically deflated. "Oui, Matheiu is my cousin, though I have not seen him in years. I had no idea he was going though so much suffering all by himself! I knew his papa was not the nicest of people, but to harm his own child!"

Antonio stepped forward and pulled the shaking blond into a hug which Francis gratefully accepted. "Don't be so hard on yourself, this wasn't your fault..."

And as the Spaniard continued to say sweet things to the other and Francis hand became to wonder down the dark haired mans back Gilbert decided that now would be a good time to go and see the kid. He walked slowly into the room, with Ludwig and Arthur following closely behind him. It didn't take long for him to spot the teen, seeing as he had his own private room and the bed he was laying on took up a good chuck of it. He didn't seem to notice that the males had entered the room, as he was focused on a notepad that he had on his lap and was scribbling something quite passionately on it. He was out of his street clothes and in the a simple white hospital robe instead (Though they seemed to allow him to keep on the hat). Now because of the shorted sleeves the albino could see the bruises and cuts that also stretched up his forearm. Shit this kid really has been though a lot. Gilbert settled himself down on the chair that he guessed was previously occupied by Francis before he spoke.

"Hey," He said simply and the teen lifted his head and blinked at the three of them.

"Hello Matthew," Ludwig said with a small tilt of his head. "It's good to see that you are better."

Indeed, though the teen was still a bit pale and hooked up to a few machines, he seemed considerably better then when Gilbert first picked him up at the park. He opened his mouth to speak but closed it with a jolt before he flipped the notepad to a new page and wrote something.

_Doctors say I shouldn't talk much. _

And right under that he even added a small sad face causing Gilbert to emit a small chuckle. Cute. Matthew flipped t a new page and wrote something else.

_Thank you very much. For everything. _

Gilbert flashed him his infamous grin while Ludwig just nodded, his cheeks a little pink.

"Heh, you can always count on the awesome me!" He then glanced at at Arthur, realizing that the usual over vocal bassist was being rather quiet. "Oh right, and this is Arthur. He didn't help you or anything but he's here cause he really has nothing better to do."

Arthur smacked him in the back of the head. "That's not true!"

Gilbert laughed. "Oh don't be so defensive you boring British bastard!"

Arthur's face became red at that. "Why you—" Though he was interrupted by a small tug on his trousers. He turned to see Matthew smiling up at him sheepishly with his hand extended for the other to shake. There was a small pause before the older man took it.

"Y-Yes, hello. I'm Arthur Kirkland." He introduced and Matthew could do nothing by nod, seeing as he wasn't allowed to talk. "So, er, what were you working on lad?"

At that question Matthew seemed to tense. He looked away before hugging the notepad closer to himself and bringing his knees closer to his body.

Gilbert was intrigued. "Ah, c'mon, you can show us! We'll only laugh if it's something that's supposed to be funny, honest."

Matthew looked towards the other at those words but didn't loosen his grip on the pad. Then, after a few moments of consideration practically threw the notes at the albino before he buried his face into his knees.

More curious due to Matthew's reaction, Gilbert flipped open the note pad to it's first page and stared wide eyed at it's contents. "Artie," He breathed, angling the paper so that he could see it as well.

The Brit leaned over the albinos shoulder and also stared wide eyed at the paper. "Notes...?" Indeed, and notes of the musical kind even. But that wasn't all, on the side were some song lyrics (as he also consistently wrote them he could identify it right away). Though they were obviously just the first drift due to it being hastily written and having many of it's verses scratched out, they were still pretty good.

"'Passionate Rebellion...?'" Gilbert read. "...That's probably the most kick ass song name I've ever heard."

Matthew reached forward and grabbed the notepad hugging it back to his chest, his face a beet red. Luckily for him it was at this time that his nurse walked in and informed everyone that they had to take Matthew away for some tests. The males decided that they should take this time to leave the teen be, and walked out to see a happy Francis grabbing onto a oblivious Antonio's behind.

"Bonjour!" Francis greeted cheerfully. "Have a good chat with my adorable cousin? He takes after me, non?"

Arthur grabbed the french speaking man by the ear and dragged him away. "If he _ever_ takes after you I fear for the decency of mankind."

"Ow! No mean to be so jealous! I was just touching not takin-OW!"

"Sorry the visit was so short," The completely unaffected Antonio said as he walked along with the two other males. "But with the police and tests it was hard to find time."

"So what will happen to Matthew now?" Ludwig asked. "Is there any family he could stay with after the hospital?"

"He's staying with Francis after he gets discharged," Antonio answered. "They're family so I'm pretty sure the police will hand Matthew over to him. To bad he can't stay with you and Gil, huh?...Gil?"

Gilbert snapped out of his daze to look at his drummer. "W-What? Oh shit, sorry for zoning... but seriously 'Passionate Rebellion.' It's a fucking kick ass name!"

Antonio just smiled before he waved. "I'll see you here tomorrow, okay?" He said before he turned and went down another hallway.

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**Thank you** crackberries, xxassassinxx18, Player3, aile-chan, MiSs ArIa, fairy-hime-108, Italiangurlinamessedupworld, zero434, bombayxprodigy, gabieblue, 518ZombiedDreams, digi-smile, Sybil Corvax** and **Chocola Emo Shizzle **for the reviews! **


	5. In Which The Historic Day Has Come

**Or, 'In Which Arthur's Not Really That Sneaky.'**

**Hey guys, Kitty29 here with a new chapter of 'To Follow the Music' for everyone to enjoy. You can thank my neighbours having a party next door and playing loud music for this chapter. If it wasn't for them, I would be sleeping right now. Mmmmmmm...sllleeeeppp. Good thing it's not 3 in the morning. Ohohoho.  
**

**Enjoy!**

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"Today's the day!" Gilbert sang as he skipped down the stairs to his basement two steps at a time. "The day our band is complete! The day we get our singer!"

It had indeed been a weeks time since the Prussian had first heard his mysterious vocalist at Roderich's door. Meaning today was the day of the singers piano lessons at the Austrian's house, making this a perfect time to find and recruit him into the band.

Gilbert hopped over the last step and into the floor with a excited 'Whoop!' before he looked up at the lone person with a large grin on his face. "Where the fuck is Antonio?" The albino's tone was annoyed but his smile didn't slip in the slightest. Arthur glared at his band leader.

"Wanker," He started. "Did you already forget? Antonio has his final exam today."

Gilbert blinked before he 'ah'd in acknowledgement. "Oh, right. _That _would explain why he called me at three in the morning screaming that he had forgotten everything. Fucking Loon."

Same old Antonio. He had started that strange habit in the seventh grade. Since then not a big test or exam would pass that he wouldn't call one of his close friends and proclaim to forget everything the test was on. Though the next day he would take the test and end up having one of the highest marks of the class. Gilbert always wondered how he did it, as school was something he struggled a lot with, but gave up his investigation in grade eleven and just concluded that the Spaniard was secretly a robot.

"Yes, better you than me," Arthur crossed his arms and sighed. "Is there a reason I'm here? Unlike you my job actually requires time and effort."

"God you've been such a stuck up dick these last few days." Gilbert retorted, though his smile was still on his face. Nothing could get him down today! "Just bone Franny already and get it over with. God the tension is killing me." He was really enjoy the shades the red the other male was quickly becoming. "Seriously, the sexual tension is so high I'm surprised you guys haven't jumped each other ye—"

"Is there a reason I'm here or can I go home?" Arthur interrupted, his red cheeks lowering the effect of his glare. Gilbert just chuckled before he decided to grant the Brit's wish.

"Alright, today's the day that you go to Roderich's house and—"

"Me?" Arthur interrupted with a quizzical look. "Why me? Why can't you do it?"

"Because Roderich is fucking stupid and doesn't see my awesomeness that's why," Gilbert stated like it was obvious, and though Arthur hated to admit it, the Prussian was right. Roderich would never let Gilbert near any of his students, especially the ones that he has shown an interest in before hand.

With a sigh Arthur nodded. "Fine, I'll get the singer. Whoever he is."

"Awesome!" Gilbert grinned at the grumpy bassist before he bent down and grabbed hold of a bag he had thrown on the couch the night before. "Call me when you get him."

"Where are you going?"

"Where do you think I'm going?" Gilbert asked as he ascended the stairs with a smirk. "I'm going to see Mattie!"

/ / / \ \ \

Entering the hospital Gilbert greeted the overweight receptionist who had yet to greet him back before he walked down the hallway he knew led to the young boys room.

"...Is there anything else I should know?"

Rounding the corner, the albino saw Francis chatting with the doctor who was looking over Matthew. Briefly looking over the chart in hand the doctor spoke.

"No, that should be all. But if he gets another fever in the next two weeks or so you should bring him straight here."

Seeing that the doctor was done speaking Gilbert placed a hand on the blond's shoulder and gained his attention. "Hey Franny."

Francis turned and smiled at his friend. "Ah, bonjour, Gil." The doctor informed that he had to be elsewhere before he wondered off.

"What was that about? The kid getting out today?"

Francis shook his head, though his smile still grew. "Non, not today. Tomorrow. Tomorrow my apartment will finally be home to more than one person."

"You mean for more than a night?" Gilbert corrected with a smirk, and Francis could do nothing but shrug. It would be useless to try and deny his womanizing (or...manizing?) ways. But really why should he? Is it so wrong to spread his love to the world? (Okay maybe not the world but...moving on...)

"So what was the kid sick with, anyway?" Gilbert questioned, and Francis couldn't help but look at him incredulously.

"You are the one who saved him and you don't even know why he is in the hospital in the first place?"

Gilbert shrugged, honestly not seeing what was wrong with that. "Does it matter? He's not sick anymore."

Francis continued to stare, wondering if the other was joking. Though after a few moments of Gilbert not doing anything to show that he was kidding, Francis couldn't help but laugh at his strangeness. Gilbert rose an eyebrow. "What?"

"Nothing...It's nothing," Francis said after he was done laughing. The look Gilbert was sending him showed he didn't buy it, and so the Frenchman decided to quickly change the subject. "It was a fever. A fever that grew worse than it should have due to stress and a very low iron count. The doctor says he was surprised Matheiu could even walk before hand."

The albino didn't really understand what that meant, but even so it didn't sound very good. "That sucks," He said simply before he glanced inside the room that the boy in question was in. He was focused on his notepad, same scene as before. "So does he know he's leaving tomorrow yet?"

Francis shook his head. "No, not yet. I've been too busy taking care of paperwork to tell him." He sighed and scratched the back of his head. "Everyone is making me jump though hops before I can take him home. I actually have to go to Mathieu's school now for some reason. Do you mind..."

Gilbert placed a hand on his chest in mock surprise. "You're giving _me_ the honour of telling Mattie he can get out of his creepy place soon? Dear god, Franny, you made me the happiest girl in the world."

"That's what they all say," Francis smoothly replied, used to the Prussians rather random and usually unnecessary responses. "And don't call him Mattie."

Gilbert raise in eyebrow at the rather serious sounding request. Why the hell couldn't he call him what he wanted? Francis had never opposed to him nicknaming others. Seeing the others confused look, Francis continued.

"It's a long story I'm afraid I don't have time for right now. Just call him Matt, okay?" With that Francis bid his friend farewell before walking past him to finish up his own business. Gilbert, deciding that he was far to awesome to leave Matthew waiting just so he could stand outside and ponder about 'the long story' Francis didn't tell him, promptly went inside the Canadian's room.

"Hey Blondie," Gilbert greeted, deciding to honour his friends request and go with the second name he came up with. "Writing more stuff?"

Looking up at the voice, Matthew smiled at the familiar face. "Hello, Gilbert." He glanced down at his notepad. "Oh, no, I'm not writing. I'm just...Stick figures." He finished lamely before he set the pad down on the small table beside him.

Gilbert nodded in response before he looked over the blond. He did look a lot better since he was admitted. The colour had returned to his skin and his hacking had reduced to a polite cough every now and then. The only signs showing that the teen was once sick was the still flushed colouring on his cheeks (which, now that it had died down, actually looked pretty cute) as well as the slight rasp in his voice. Even his bruises looked less serious (or maybe he was just used to seeing them now). Expect for the one on the side of his face, which he couldn't see right now due to the fact it was hidden under a bit-too-big-for-his-head bowler hat. Gilbert briefly wondered where Matthew had found this hat, but decided it was unimportant.

"So, today is a big day for the both of us, huh?" Gilbert questioned as he sat down on the chair next to the bed. Matthew tilted his head in confusion.

"'Big day?' Why? What's happening today?"

The Prussian smirked as he leaned further back in his chair, trying to make himself more comfortable. "For starters, tomorrow you're getting out of here and moving in with our beloved Franny."

Gilbert had expected the Canadian to be happy at the news, but to his surprise the other actually looked a bit disappointed, and turned away to look down at his lap. "O-Oh..."

"Hey, what's up?"

Matthew shook his head. "N-No no, it's nothing it's just..." Shaking his head again, he looked to the albino with a smile. "That's great! Really! So why is it a good day for you?"

At that a large smile broke out across Gilbert's face. "Well, since you ask," he began excitedly. "Today is a day that is going to go down in _history_. For today is the day that my awesome band will finally get it's equally awesome singer. Artie should actually be meeting him about now."

/ / / \ \ \

Arthur was glad when it was Elizabeta who answered the door instead of Roderich, for he and Elizabeta were friends back in high school while he and Roderich...were not. What he wasn't glad to see, however, was the state his friend was in. He wouldn't say she looked horrible, as she was a rather beautiful women, but she could have definably used some fixing up. Deep bags rested under her eyes, her hair was a mess and her clothes were wrinkled and twisted. Seeing her old school friend she immediately invited him inside, which Arthur gracefully accepted. Once inside Arthur noted that Roderich didn't look too great either. He sat in front of his baby grand, his usual straight posture curved as he rested his elbows on the fall. He rested his chin on his interlocked fingers and stared at nothing in front of him with a hardened expression. Truthfully, the sight left Arthur a little uneasy, the fact that the Austrian's foot was slowly pressing and releasing on the petal didn't help either. Quickly and quietly, Elizabeta led him past the sad sight and sat in down in the dining room before she went to make tea.

"I'm sorry you came at such a bad time," the woman apologized as she poured her guest some tea.

"Please, don't apologize for anything, dear," Arthur said as he accepted the offered cup. "Is it anything I can help with?"

Elizabeta sighed before she poured her own cup and sat down on the couch right across from the other. "I wish. You see, a student of Roderich's has been missing for over a week now, and we're very worried about him."

A bad feeling churned in the Brit's stomach. "This student...Was one of his lessons supposed to be now?"

The Hungarian female nodded, and mentally Arthur cussed Gilbert. Damn him and his stupid plans, he wasn't even here! "Are you sure he may not be just skipping a lesson?"

Elizabeta shook her head, looking down at her cup with knitted brows. "No, he...He always calls beforehand or texts one of us if he has to miss a lesson. But it's not just here, apparently he hasn't been to school or work for the last week either. And when we try to contact him or his father we can't get through..." She stopped and bit her bottom lip, nothing but worry showing on her face.

Arthur couldn't help but think that she had lost one of her own children with the way she was acting. "Well, maybe you can describe him for me? I may have seen him around."

Elizabeta's head shot up to look at the male at that. "Oh! Right, yes. Good idea." Setting her tea cup on the table in front of her she stood and raised a hand just a bit above her head. "He's about this tall, really skinny, pale skin, has blond hair to about here," she gestured about halfway up her neck. "And, um...Always wears long sleeved shirts, usually red."

Arthur made a face. Just why did that description sound so familiar? Elizabeta continued.

"And his name is Matthew. Matthew Williams have you seen him?"

The tea cup fell from Arthur's hand and smashed on the ground. Both he and Elizabeta jumped.

"Bulloc— I'm so sorry!"

"No, it's okay! I never really liked that cup anyway."

"At least let me help clean up."

As the two cleaned up the mess Arthur's mind had kicked into over drive. Matthew, Matthew, shit, Matthew, what the _fuck_? _This _Matthew, the one Elizabeta was looking for, _their singer _and _their _Matthew back at the hospital were all the same person! It made sense that Elizabeta had yet to hear about him, though the police was included due to the obvious abuse he had suffered, the media was being surprising silent about it. Probably because they didn't see it as much as a story until they made some kind of arrest or whatever. So what, should he tell her? If he told her, of course she would tell Roderich and then they would visit Matthew in the hospital. From there it was only a matter of time before they would find out of Gilbert's connection with the boy and just like that their chances of having their singer were gone.

Wait, did he just put the band before another human being? Shit, Gilbert was really starting to rub off on him, and not in the good way.

...He didn't think that.

Sooner than he would have wanted, Elizabeta told him to sit back down as she finished off, and Arthur numbingly did as he was told, still in a bit of a haze. They may not be very connected with Matthew as close family or friends, but they were obviously very worried over him. No matter how badly the band needed a singer, they deserved to know the truth.

"I know where Matthew is," Arthur stated, and instantly Elizabeta dropped everything she was doing to stare dumbfounded at the British man. The heavy sound of hurried footsteps echoed through the suddenly quiet house and within moments Roderich had appeared in the doorway.

"Where is he?" Roderich demanded, sending a very unnerving glare over at the other male. Arthur had to admit that the stare had a great effect on him. He had never seen the Austrian so intense before when he wasn't seated in front of his piano. Even when he looked away he could still feel the glare burning into the side of his skull.

"Well...He..." Arthur released a heavy sigh and decided to just spit it out. "He's in the hospital."

/ / / \ \ \

Entering the familiar hospital Antonio whistled cheerfully. He greeted the overweight receptionist that still had yet to greet him back before he began to scroll down the hallways. Truthfully, he had no idea why he was here. He had no reason to be here, really. All he know was that he had finished writing that terribly long test, thing and had decided that the best way to cerebrate would be by aimlessly walking around the hospital he worked at. Almost like a victory lap if you will, but no running and with a lot more sick people.

He ignored (or more like, didn't notice) the strange looks he got as he strutted (or rather, walked animatedly) down the hallways, still whistling his cheerful tune. He was just about to past by Matthew's room and decided to glance inside before he continued on, just to see if he was okay. Looking inside, he was a bit surprised when he noticed Gilbert there as well, talking quite excitedly to the teen. Deciding to say hello before he went on, he walked into the small room.

"Hello!" He greeted happily, causing the two other males to look at him.

"Hey Toni," Gilbert greeted back with a smile. "I was just telling Matt here about our singer." Then, glancing down at the object under Antonio's arm, he raised an eyebrow. "Why are you carrying your old keyboard?"

Antonio simply blinked for a bit before looking down at the bulky, somewhat heavy instrument he was holding. "Oh!" He exclaimed, obviously having forgotten he was carrying it in the first place. "_That's _what was giving me trouble when I tried to go though doors."

Gilbert resisted the urge to face palm as he asked his question again, "Okay. So why are you carrying it around?"

Antonio shrugged before he walked over to the other and placed the hand that wasn't holding the keyboard on the back of his chair. "This is my lucky keyboard. I know I have a new one but this one always assures that I do will do well on tests."

Gilbert really did face palm this time. "You idiot. I just want to know if they even let you bring that thing in with you when you took your exam." He turned to Matthew with the intention of telling him more about Antonio's weird ways but stopped when he found that Matthew's attention was elsewhere. He was looking down at the keyboard with wonder shining in his eyes. Noticing the look, Antonio held the keyboard with both hands so that the blond could properly see it.

"Have you played the keyboard before?" Antonio asked, startling the teen from whatever trance he was in.

"Oh, n-no," Matthew answered, a light blush on his face. He looked down at his lap and began to fumble with the sheet currently covering his legs. "But I used to play the piano..."

"Did you like it?"

Matthew was silent for a while, opting to look down at his hands rather than the two males. "...I loved it." He finally said causing the Spaniard to smile.

"Do you want to learn? It's not too different." Walking up to the younger male he placed the instrument on his lap. Just as he began to explain some things about the keyboard Gilbert's cell phone rang. Not wanting to interrupt whatever 'thing' the two had suddenly developed, he got up and went outside before he answered.

"Hey Artie, the most awesome person other than me right now!" Gilbert greeted with a large smile. "So did you find our singer?"

"_Y-Yes hello to you too Gilbert," _Arthur greeted back with a faint irritation in his voice that Gilbert ignored. Arthur pretty much always sounded like that. _"__Gilbert, listen, about the singer—"_

"He's awesome, right? I told you! Isn't he perf—"

"_He wasn't there. He's been missing for days."_

Silence fell upon the two. A silence that was making Gilbert increasingly nervous as it dragged out. He was waiting for Arthur to say that he was joking and that the vocalist was actually standing right next to him. It certainly didn't seem like a thing Arthur would do, but he was secretly hoping that from the time he had seen him to now someone had removed that stick that was far up his ass. Finally Arthur spoke.

"_Gilbert? Did you hear me?"_

"...Are you fucking kidding me?" Gilbert wasn't sure why he was suddenly mad, of course he had considered the option that the singer wouldn't be there. Even so he found himself annoyed. "He wasn't fucking there? Did you at least get his name?"

"_No, I didn't get his name. Roderich figured out you sent me."_

"What the_ hell?_ How could he know that? Do you really suck that fucking hard at sneaking?"

"_Me showing up a week after you did wasn't a very good plan! Especially after you caused such a big scene! You got the bloody police involved?"_

"ONE cop! _ONE! _And it was the unawesome, sexually frustrated neighbour!"

With a sigh that Arthur didn't bother hiding he said, "_This is getting us nowhere."_

Though Gilbert wanted to cuss Arthur out some more he figured that the Brit was right. "Just come to the hospital." He ordered before he hung up his phone with a scowl.

Hearing the dial tone Arthur also hung up his phone with a sigh. He had told Elizabeta and Roderich everything. Well, everything expect for the fact that Gilbert wanted Matthew to join their band as the singer. He had even managed convince the couple to not visit Matthew today. He knew that Gilbert was there at the moment, and Gilbert and Roderich meeting was something that he needed to avoid. He had thought it would have been hard to convince the two to delay the visit to the teen they had spent the week worrying over but the two seemed more relieved that the boy was safe to really argue that much.

Not telling Gilbert of the singers identity was for the best. He knew Gilbert, and he knew that when he got his sights on something he would go after it until it was his. Matthew didn't need that, especially now. The physical and mental abuse he suffered was far more than any boy his age should go though. How old was Matthew anyway? Fifteen? Sixteen? Far too young to be forced into focusing all his attention to a band. If they made it, the kid will be surrounded by bad influences, far worst than just Gilbert, and if they didn't make it, than he would have just wasted time he could have spent going to school and getting an education. They would just have to find their singer somewhere else.

Starting to walk away from the house, he hoped he had done the right thing.

* * *

**Thank you **Italiangurlinamessedupworld, xxassassinxx18, XxTehSparklepirexX, Life's Shadows, HealingNymph, aile-chan, digi-smile, zero434, Ophiouchos, Chocola Emo Shizzle, IchigoMelon, Apollo Pompano, fairy-hime-108, Frozenbreath, gabieblue, **and **SchemingAlchemist **for the reviews!**


	6. In Which Matthew Settles In

**Or, 'In Which Francis Goes From Living With Himself To Living With Another.' **

**Hey guys, Kitty29 here with a new chapter of 'To Follow The Music'. I have literally just been writing all day and I don't know why. Anyways, this is the result of like, seven? hours straight lol. This chapter is a little break away from Gilbert and the band mates and instead focuses on Matthew and Francis. Which is a bit scary for me cause I'm not so good at writing Francis in first person .-. So I hope you enjoy! **

* * *

It was strange for the Frenchman to think of living with another person. He wouldn't say he preferred to be alone, but he had been living by himself ever since his depressed roommate committed suicide back in collage and everyone then refused to stay in the same room as his 'ghost'. But he decided it was good for him. He always thought that it was a bit of a waste to live in a potentiality two bedroom apartment by himself anyway.

So after a bit of cleaning and a lot of paper work Francis found himself to be the temporary guardian of Matthew Williams. And when he said temporary, he meant temporary, seeing as the Canadian's eighteenth birthday was less then a month away. When that happened he could be his own man(though Francis found it hard to think of Matthew as a man. Maybe it was because he's known him since he was small...er). But until then, he just had to take care of him as much as he could.

So yes, it was a bit strange living with someone, but it was even stranger taking care of someone. He was thankful that his friends had taken a liking to the kid and had decided to help him as much as they could.

"So you think their gonna sentence his Dad to death or something?"

...Or maybe not.

Francis glared at the Prussian. What the hell was going through that mind of his that said it was okay to say something like that in front of Matthew? He was thankful when Arthur, who was currently next to the red eyed man, punched him on the shoulder and it certainly looked like he put some weight into it. Gilbert rubbed his arm and glared at the Brit.

"Ow! What the fuc—"

"Language!" Antonio yelled, reaching over and cupping his hands over the young blond's ears.

They were at Francis' apartment, helping with moving Matthew's things over. Though Matthew had said that he was fine with whatever was in the two small bags that he had with him, the four older males ignored him, thinking he was nervous because his stuff was back at the house where his abusive father was. Though at that point his father had been detained and the males were allowed to go in and gather up the rest of his stuff, which truthfully, wasn't that much. Anyways, they had all just returned to the apartment and were taking a little break before they moved all the stuff from Francis' car. Francis was in the kitchen preparing a few things for his guests while Antonio was continuing his keyboard lessons with Matthew, who was rather intrigued by the instrument. This left Gilbert and Arthur to bum on the couch, not really doing much of anything.

Matthew reached up and removed the hands from his ears, a small sheepish smile on his face. "It-It's okay. W-We don't have the death penalty in Canada so—"

"So how are those sandwiches coming along, Francis?" Arthur decided to call out, trying to change the topic. Gilbert frowned at him.

"Aren't you the one who said it was rude to interrupt people or some shi—OW! _Stop hitting me!_"

"Maybe you can go and pick up a few things?" Francis supplied, amazed by just how dense the Prussian was being. "Make yourself useful? It'll be done when you get back."

Gilbert rose at eyebrow at the other and opened his mouth to retort but Arthur had grabbed him by the shirt and forced him to leave, the Prussian cussing him as they went. Matthew looked worriedly at the scene.

"Y-you don't have to stop conversations because of me..." He said meekly, adjusting his hat, which today was a red newsboy cap, to make sure it was covering his bruise. Antonio smiled down at him.

"You don't worry about it okay, Mateo? Let's continue, we only have so much time before I have to go!"

From there it luckily went much smoother. They ate their lunch before they helped Matthew move his things in. Though Matthew had said that he was fine with the stuff he had he was delighted to get his laptop back. It was rather cute, he looked like a kid at Christmas that wanted nothing more than to play with his new toy.

The cuteness wore off after a week or so.

Francis had tried to be respectful and not bother him too much, knowing that Matthew was adjusting to his new life as well as studying for an exam he had(he had refused the offer to take the exam at a later time, not wanting any special treatment. He said that he only had one exam so it wasn't that big of a deal). But even so, the Canadian had pretty much held himself up in his room for the last week, only exiting when Francis called for him to eat. This couldn't have been healthy, right? He figured that, as his guardian, he should probably do something about that...right?

Uh...Right? Right!

Knocking on Matthew's door, he tried to get his attention. "Mathieu! Mathieu can you come out please?" He stepped away as various sounds of shuffling came from within the room and a moment later the Canadian peeked out the door.

"What is it, Francis?" He said, opening the door just enough so that he could get his head through, like he was hiding something on the inside. Francis noted that this was one of the first times he's seen the blond without a hat in the middle of the day. Well, his bruise_ was _healing up nicely. Francis smiled down at the smaller blond.

"Get dressed, Mathieu. We're going out."

At this, the Canadian seemed to tense. "Um, where are we going?"

Francis shrugged. "Where ever you want to go. It's almost lunch time and I don't really feel like cooking today."

At this, Matthew looked a little downcast. "But...I like your cooking..." He said silently, his cheeks turning a light pink. The sight was almost enough to make Francis run into the kitchen and start preparing something for them.

Almost.

"Thank you, Mathieu but you've been spending too much time locked up in this place, you need your vitamin C, non? I also have to pick up some hot chocolate mix. I believe our last can is done."

The boy's eyes widened a bit at that. "Oh! Um...no it's not done I just..." He excused himself before he disappeared into his room, reappearing a moment later with the can of hot chocolate mix that the other assumed to be finished. "I was...using it..."

Francis rose an eyebrow before he took the offered can. "You're not eating this directly are you?"

Matthew shook his head furiously, a disgusted look on his face. Francis didn't ask anymore questions as he smiled. "Okay. We will leave in an hour, oui?"

The younger blond looked a bit surprised by the lack of questions as he slowly nodded. "Okay...I mean, oui." With that he closed the door once again. Francis turned and went towards his kitchen, looking down at the hot chocolate in hand with wonder. He wondered what possible use the thing could have but shook the thought out of his head as he placed it away. He was sure that if Matthew wanted to tell him then he would tell him.

/ / / \ \ \

Matthew, being his usual timid and unsure self, didn't know where he wanted to go. He did, however, say that he wanted a hamburger, and so Francis took them to a nearby mall that held many different fast food places in it's food court. He wasn't big on fast food, but he figured that eating the stuff every once in a while was fine, plus from what he could remember Matthew was a pretty large fan of the stuff. They decided to go to A&W's though it was as they were settling down at a table that Matthew noticed that the people forgot to give them ketchup.

"Do not worry, I'll go and get some," Francis said with a smile, raising from the seat. He walked back over to the place to get their forgotten ketchup packets (getting more than he needed when the girl got a little too flustered from his simple flirtatious wink). He turned to go back to Matthew but paused when he noticed a women hovering over the blond and Matthew was looking rather uncomfortable as he glanced around.  
Francis' eyes narrowed as he instantly knew just what that women was. A reporter. This wouldn't be the first time he had run into one of them, but he was very much hoping it would be the last. Dieu, they were like leeches! Could he not turn his back for _two minutes?_

"Hello," he greeted politely when he walked over, though nothing in his tone was friendly. "And you are?"

The women looked up at him and smiled charmingly. If this was another time, Francis would have noted how hot she was. If this was another time, he would have flirted and got her number. But this was not the time.

"Hello there! You must be Francis, I'm Cathleen. Cathleen Powell, reporter for the JPU news." She held out a hand for him to shake. He didn't take it. Getting the hint, she retreated her hand. "Getting to the point, I would _love_ to have your permission to air this story! And maybe have an interview with Matthew, if that's okay."

"No." Was Francis' shift shut down before he moved around the women to sit at the table. "Now if you would please excuse us, we're trying to eat."

Though, like all good reporters, she was persistent. "Oh, please Mr. Bonnefoy, sir! This story is like something out of a fantasy novel! The boy running away from the home nearly dead, if not for the kindness of complete strangers and then getting reunited with long lost family! It would be a crime _not_ to publish this!"

Francis turned to glare at her. Though what she said was obviously an exaggeration, she shouldn't have known all that stuff to begin with. "How did you get that information?"

The women coughed into her fist before she flicked back her hair. "I have my sources," she said proudly. Seeing as the Frenchman continued to glare at her, she turned her attention to Matthew. "So, what do you say to just one interview? Think of the inspiration it will give to all the other kids in a abused relationship. You could be a hero!"

Matthew just looked away, distress clearly in his face as he constantly adjusted his sleeves and baseball cap, making sure they were covering the marks of abuse. "I, um..."

Francis stood again, and grabbed onto her wrist in a not to gentle fashion to get her attention. "Do not try to seduce Mathieu _Ms. Powell, _the answer is still no. I suggest you leave before I call security."

Cathleen looked from the hand grabbing her to Francis, her smile never fading. "Oh? Security, _Mr. Bonnefoy?_ From what I can see it looks like_ I'm_ the lady being harassed by a larger gentleman."

Francis let go of her arm and narrowed his eyes at her. She smirked back. He looked to Matthew. "Come Mathieu, we'll eat at home."

Matthew just nodded before he put the food back into the bags (Francis had a habit of ordering things to go even when it wasn't) and picked them up before he also got up and followed his cousin away.

"Think about what I said, Matthew! A hero!" Cathleen called out, making the Canadian flinch as he quickened his pace. Francis placed a comforting hand on his back.

It was in that exact moment that he was met with both a realization and a reminder. He realized that even though Matthew was a victim of physical abuse, he was pretty good with people touching him, provided he could see them about to touch him. He also remembered that he was taking care of a victim of abuse, which you would think wouldn't be something that's so easy to forget. But in this case...it kind of was.

As soon as Francis hand contacted with the others back, Matthew let out a loud scream that the Frenchman didn't even think the Canadian could produce before he ripped away and shoved him away. Francis, obviously startled by both the scream and the shove, lost his balance and tripped over a chair that was just behind him. He fell over said chair and fell hard on his back, his head bouncing against the hard titled floor quite loudly.

Francis couldn't decided if English or French cusses would better describe the pain he was in, so he settled for a weird mix of both, causing both the French and English Canadian mothers alike to cover up their children's ears.

"_Francis!" _Matthew shrieked before rushed to his relatives side. "I'm _so sorry! _I didn't mean to, I mean I..._Oh my god! Are you alright?"_

"I'm...Fine," Francis managed through clutched teeth. He reached up and rubbed the back of his head, still mumbling curses under his breath. He silently thanked some of his crazy ex's that seeked revenge on him for his hard head. If you could call a one night stand with someone your ex. He said similar things to people who asked if he was okay until a rent a cop came along and helped him to his feet.

"Francis, I am so sorry! I really didn't mean to! I'm really really sorry, I don't know what came over me I—"

"It's okay, Mathieu," he assured as soon as the stars stopped shining in his vision. "It's not your fault, I should not have touched you like that. Let's just go home and eat, non?"

Matthew looked at him in worry, but slowly began to follow the other as he walked away, still rubbing his head. "A-Are you sure you're okay to drive?"

"I'll be fine, Mathieu. If my mind forgets I am sure my body will remember."

Unbeknownst to the two, Cathleen Powell smirked before she pocketed the camera and walked away.

/ / / \ \ \

Francis rested his head on his folded arms and stared at Matthew studying from the kitchen (him having finally convinced the young boy to study in the open rather than lock himself in his room all day). He tried not to make the other feel overwhelmed by asking him too many questions but even so this whole issue was starting to bother him. The questions had started when Gilbert had first opened his big mouth and only further continued when both he and Matthew had heard the news just a few minutes ago.

Just because he didn't give permission for Matthew to be on the news didn't mean the press wasn't all over Matthew's father. It was a simple report, just talking about the crimes he was arrested for and that his trail date had yet to be decided. If there was anything more to the story Francis wouldn't be able to tell for he turned off the television as fast as he could and told his cousin that that was enough TV and that he should study for his exam tomorrow. But Matthew's father wasn't what bothered him. What bothered him was Matthew's reaction to his father.

Every time he was introduced to the topic of his father Francis expected him to look distress or scared and want to change the topic as soon as possible but he was actually almost the exact opposite. Whenever his abuser was brought up, Matthew remained as impassive as if they were talking about the weather and seemed more than willing to talk about him.

It worried Francis, and it wasn't as if he could go to Matthew's assigned therapist for advice seeing as their first appointment was next week (she was apparently on a vacation in the Bahamas. Who goes on a vacation the month before summer?). And he really didn't know if he should just bring it up out of the blue.

"Is something wrong, Francis?"

Francis snapped out of his gaze to find Matthew looking back at him, his head tilted slightly as he waited for an answer. Francis straightened up and smiled at him. Even if he chose to randomly bring up the issue, doing it the day before his exam would be thoughtless. "No, nothing is wrong. I was just wondering if you wanted something to drink."

Matthew just continued to stare, his large violet eyes blinking behind his glasses. "Is this about the man that used to hit me?"

Francis froze and his eyes widened in surprise, not expecting the words that left the Canadian's mouth.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Matthew further asked, looking completely unfazed. It took a while for the Frenchman to gather his bearings but when he did he promptly answered,

"No, no Mathieu you focus on studying," Francis said before he smiled and turned around to get something from the fridge.

"I want to talk about it."

Again Francis froze. Well, who was he to deny such an honest request? Sighing, he walked to where Matthew was and sat down next to him on the couch. "I have a question to ask but you don't have to answer if you don't want to, okay?"

The younger blond nodded and Francis continued.

"When ever your father is brought up you never seem...sad about it. I am not saying that not being sad is a bad thing but...It is something I thought you would be."

"Well..." Matthew started before he bit his bottom lip and looked down at his lap, trying to think of how to word his thoughts. "There are a lot of different ways that I coped with...with the a-abuse and I guess that one of them was...Not thinking of that man as...My father." He paused to tuck some hair that had fallen in his face behind his ear, unintentionally putting his bruise in full view. "I-I mean...Fathers are suppose to...Love you and take care of you and help you with your problems...T-that man didn't do any of that. So...I suppose he deserves what he's getting for...Everything he did to me..."

"He does deserve it," Francis assured, placing a comforting hand on his leg. "Even if you don't think this, I want you to know that this wasn't your fault, okay?"

Matthew nodded. "I know."

Smiling, Francis reached up, making sure that the other could see him, and ruffled his hair affectionately. "That's because you're smart and you are going to pass this exam with flying colours!" He exclaimed before he pushed himself off the couch. "So, do you want something to drink?"

Matthew nodded, also smiling. "Do we have anymore peach juice?"

/ / / \ \ \

Francis released a sigh as he looked at his clock once more. Matthew's exam should be done by about this time, then again, maybe it was his fault for coming fifteen minutes earlier. What could he say? He was done with his work early and didn't know what to do with himself. Then again, being able to watch the high school students as they walked by was certainly a plus, ohohoho (...What? He wasn't _that_ much older).

He was broken from his thoughts when the sound of the door opening and closing with a bit more force than necessary was heard. He turned to see the Canadian sitting there in the passengers seat, removing his backpack so he can place it more comfortably on his lap.

"How did it go?" The French speaking man asked as he watched the young blond pull on his seat belt.

"Fine," he stated with a bitter undertone lacing his words. "Can we go home now?"

Francis was taken aback by the answer. "I thought you wanted to go for ice cream after?"

Matthew shook his head. "I just want to go home." His eyes were fixed straight ahead of him, making it hard for the older male to see his expression.

With a small defeated sigh Francis started the car and started the drive home. The drive back was silent between the two, only the sound of the radio saving them from total quiet. As soon as they reached the apartment Matthew practically ran inside, kicking off his shoes and throwing his backpack in a random direction before storming to his room. Francis blinked at his behaviour. Usually he took his time making sure that his shoes were neatly put away and he always carried his backpack into his room with him. Francis concluded that something must have happened at school, for Matthew wasn't acting this way when he drove him this morning.

Walking over to Matthew's door, which the other had forgotten to close in his rush, and found Matthew sitting cross legged on his bed, his laptop open in front of him. Francis leaned on his door frame as he watched the other plug his rather large headphones in before wearing them around his neck, obviously not having use for them right now.

"Mathieu, what happened at school?" Francis asked.

"The other kids wouldn't stop bothering me. They knew who my father was," Matthew admitted, tugging on his selves so hard that the bruises along his collar bone began to peek out. "E-Even after I showed them them some scars they still w-wouldn't stop asking...Questions." He seemed to become frantic as he focused on his computer, typing something down almost feverishly.

Francis found himself growing worried as he pushed himself off the door frame. "They're just curious, Mathieu. They don't mean to do th—"

"Sorry, Francis but can we talk about this later?" Matthew interrupted, never taking his intent eye off the computer as he pulled the headphones over his ears. "I have to do this right now."

Before the Frenchman could ask what was so important, Matthew opened his mouth and a new voice flew out of it. To say that Francis was shocked was an understatement. He had heard the Canadian sing before, but that was years ago. Between then and now Matthew had definitely improved.

Not to mention he couldn't believe just how different the other was when he sang. Not only was his voice considerably different from when he was talking but it was almost as if his whole persona did a complete one eighty. While Matthew was normally meek and rather unsure of himself this Matthew practically glowed with confidence, his voice steady and strong, delivering every note with purpose. In his option, the Canadian was done far too soon and the young blond slowly settled back into his normal self. A goofy grin spread across his face as he slumped, looking like a heavy weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

"I'm sorry, what were you saying Francis?" Matthew said, turning to his cousin like he hadn't just burst into song a few minutes prior. The other just continued to stare at him for a while, still a bit surprised.

"...I've forgotten how good you are," he said with a laugh, causing Matthew's cheeks to heat up at the compliment and look back at his laptop.

"D-Do you want to hear it? T-The song I mean. The vocals were just the last part of it so now it should be almost done..."

Francis blinked. "You made a whole song?" He said, obviously impressed. "But you don't have any instruments."

Matthew suddenly began to fuss about with his black beanie hat. "W-Well I have a melodica...But I didn't use instruments in the t-traditional sense in this one..." Matthew then scooted over and allowed the Frenchman space to sit, which Francis filled. Seeing the other was seated, he unplugged his headphones before putting the song back to the beginning and hitting play. It took a few seconds into the song before Francis realized just what was making the music.

"Mon dieu, Mathieu! Did you make a whole song out of random objects from around the house?"

Matthew nodded, his blush deepening when he saw how impressed his relative was. Francis was silent for a while as he continued to listen, only growing more proud of his cousin as it went on. Was this what he was working on all this time? Now he understood why he was in his room for such long periods of time.

"Is that hot chocolate I hear shaking in the background?"

Matthew nodded again, his cheeks glowing as he smiled sheepishly. "I-I'm sorry I took it without asking..."

"It's fine, Mathieu. So what are you going to do with it?"

"Well, I-I guess I'll do what anyone would do," Matthew said with a nervous shrug. "Put it on the internet."

* * *

**Matt changed his hat like, three times in his chapter, lol. Where does he get all these hats?  
A melodica is an instrument that's like a mini piano you blow into or something I dunno, look it up on google images. Or, commonly used by one of my favourite bands, the Gorillaz! I had one, but I lost it .-.**

**Thank you **xVAMPIRExEMPRESSx, ThisIsMyCliche, Ayla The Librarian, xxassassinxx18, zero434, fairy-hime-108, Italiangurlinamessedupworld, MistyLovesSesshomaru, Ookami Aya, glassof-wine, Night13, gabieblue **and **IchigoMelon** for the reviews!**


	7. In Which Gilbert Tells His Story

**Or 'In Which Some Confusing Things Are Afoot'**

**Hello Hello, Kitty29 here with a new chapter of 'To Follow The Music.' Um…ta-da?  
I'm…just going to act as if that year and a half gap never happened. Year and a half gap you say? How presumptuous! I assure you I have no idea what you're talking about!**

**…-cough-**

**I don't know what what else to say, please enjoy!  
**

* * *

Looking around to make sure there was no one he recognized, the teen raced into the building and up the stairs, his face one of utter guilt. He had been doing this for nearly a year now, so he knew the quickest way to get to his detestation without attracting too much attention. Even so, he willed his legs to go faster. God, why was it _now _that he just noticed his _hug_e _stupid mistake? _If he didn't fix this _now_ his best friend would never forgive him! And even worse, he could potentially turn his friend off the idea of using his gift _for_e_v_e_r! Why w_e_r_e_ his f_ee_t so damn slow?_

He threw himself at the door, latching onto the handle with both hands and jiggling it viciously. _Argh! _Locked doors! _Why do you exist? _Nearly full out panicking now, he reached into his pocket. Keys, keys, where are you keys! _You're needed keys!_

His hand had just brushed against the jagged metal before Murphy's Law decided today would be the day it would kick him in the nuts repeatedly. He let out a sharp gasp when he felt the back of his shirt suddenly tugged backwards, temporary halting his ability to breath.

"Whoa, whoa, hey kid. Nice to see you here."

Of course. Out of _all _the people that had a key to this place, it _had _to be the guy from Denmark. It just _had_ to be.

"I actually wanted to talk to you Ying Sue."

"_Yong Soo,_" the Korean corrected almost automatically. He remembered Mathias, why couldn't he remember Yong Soo? "It's okay, let's talk, da~ze! Let's talk inside the studio!"

Mathias, seeming to have picking up on the teen's nervous state (not that it was hard), shook his head. "Nah, let's talk out here. It shouldn't take long."

_Ffffffffffffffffffffuck! He knew!_

Internally, Yong Soo had commenced his full out panicking. Externally, a small closed mouth smile appeared on his face and he stared at the blond as he waited for him to speak.

The Dane did so, "So, Young Shoe, about a month ago _someone _used the studio without permission."

Allowing his inner panic to show, Yong Soo took on the face of one that did something that was sure to get him in a whole heap of trouble. Mathias continued on like he didn't notice this change of expression, but his smirk said otherwise. "Normally I'd kick someone out for that but you know what? Ever since he's heard it, your cuz has been asking for that singer you managed to find."

Yong Soo's blood ran cold. _Oh no_...just when he thought it couldn't get any worse.

"So here's the deal, Bing Woe."

"...Yong Soo." He corrected weakly. Mathias chose to ignore that.

"You bring your mysterious singer here and you can use the studio again, alright?"

Yong Soo jerked his head elsewhere. It was his stupid aloofness that got him into his situation. He was a horrible friend! "Listen, those recordings aren't supposed to exist! It would be better if you deleted them!"

As soon as he saw the sudden interested smirk on the spiky blonds face he knew he had said the one thing he shouldn't have. "Oh? Alright then! New deal, Chung Li!" Now he was just making fun of him. "You bring me this singer of yours, or I'll _personally_ make sure those recordings go viral. Understood?"

Yong Soo's head snapped back to the older man. God, if he felt guilt before he ran into the building, it was nothing compared to now. Not saying another word, the Asian turned tail and sped off. He didn't want to, but he knew who he had to talk to.

Oh...Matthew was _not_ going to be happy...

/ / / \ \ \

Today was a normal day at the Bonnefoy household. Francis didn't even realize how much he appreciated normal days until his mentally unstable cousin moved in with him. As if was now, he was actually able to relax and read a book, not having to worry about his relative as he sat on the couch next to him and toyed around with his laptop. Yep. It looked like today was going to be a normal, mentally stable type of day. With no mishaps, break downs or surpri—

"_mmmmaaaaaAAAATTTTTIIIEEEEE!"_

The door slamming open immediately laughed at the Frenchman's hopeful thoughts of a day of normalcy. Matthew gave a sharp yelp and threw his arms over his head, his laptop falling to the floor as he reverted into the fatal position. Argh, and they were doing so well! Francis' head snapped to the door but he could only catch a dark blur before a spew of words filled the apartment.

"_Mattie! _I'm sorry! I did something that I said I wouldn't do but I did it but I didn't mean to, I thought it was done but it wasn't so I tried to stop it but I couldn't and you trusted me and, and I'm so so sorry! _Don't be mad at me, da~ze!_"

Matthew blinked at the boy knelled in front of him and relaxed ever so slightly. "Y-Yong Soo? Wh-wh-wha...?"

"Excuse-moi." Both teens looked at the adult like they had just noticed he was there. "But, _who are you?_" Francis couldn't help his freaking out at the end. Sure he left his door unlocked a lot but that wasn't an open invitation for people to start _barrelling_ into his home like this!

Yong Soo jumped into a standing position and approached Francis with his hand extended. "Oh! Hello! I'm Yong Soo! A friend of Mattie's! And you must be...Francis? It's nice to meet you!" Francis took his hand and it was shaken quite eagerly. It must have been two seconds after he let go that the strange teen was knelling in front of Matthew again like he had never moved.

"Hey Mattie, uh...remember that..._favour _I asked of you a month ago?"

Matthew simple stared for a long while, his brow slightly ceased as he thought back. His eyes suddenly widening symbolized his realization. "O-oh-oh no! No! Yong Soo,_ No!_"

"Don't freak out!" Yong Soo commanded a second too late. Standing, he grabbed onto Matthew's hands and tugged him onto his feet. "Let's go for a walk! I'll explain then!"

Before the blond could even jerk his head in the first direction of a yes or no head shake he was already being dragged out the door. Just before he had completely disappeared from sight he managed to call out a quick, "I'm sorry Francis I'll be right back!" Before he was gone.

Francis just stared at the door stupidly, his mind several moments behind. He was confused, but not about what had just happened. Rather, it was what was said. Standing, he walked over to the unclosed door and stared down the hallway.

Why did Matthew let that strange boy call him Mattie?

/ / / \ \ \

Obviously Matthew was freaking out, which Yong Soo had unfortunately anticipated. So he went and did the one thing that always seemed to cheer him up; he went and got them ice cream. No one was immune to the power of ice cream! Well, unless you were lactose intolerant but Matthew wasn't lactose intolerant. So why wasn't he enjoying it?

"Um..." Surprisingly, it was Matthew who broke the silence. "When...when you were talking about that... favour. D-did you mean..." He trailed off and looked down at his ice cream cone, not seeming to care that the liquid was slowly trickling onto his fingers.

Yong Soo tensed, the guilt the ice cream had eased flaring up again. Deciding it was time for a flashback, his mind wondered back to the favour he had asked of Matthew a month prior.

_"Sing for me!"_

_That had earned him several blinks from violet eyes, followed by a quiet but distinguishable. "Eh?"_

_Yong Soo looked around the classroom before he settled into a chair beside the Canadian. He wasn't even supposed to be in this class but the teacher either didn't notice him walk in or didn't care. "I don't think you know how good you are, but you really are a great singer!"_

_Matthew blushed and looked around as if making sure no one was paying attention before he stared down as his lap and started picking at his pants, not saying anything. So Yong Soo spoke for him. "Yeah! You're probably going to grow up and become a famous singer and travel all over the world and have groupies that follow you everywhere and shower you with love, da~ze!"_

_Matthew looked rather uncomfortable with the mental imagery that the Korean had thought up for him, making Yong Soo laugh. "But that's for later. Now you'll just have to get used to recording at a __real __studio!"_

_Matthew perked up. "A...A real studio?"_

_Yong Soo's smile grew. "Yeah! A __real __studio, can you believe it? Kaoru finally turned his apartment into a little studio, so that he doesn't have to rent out places anymore and I've got the keys!" He couldn't help but show his excitement at this and he bounced about happily in his seat. "So lets' jam after school, da~ze! Me on guitar and you singing! It will be __so cool!__"_

_Matthew smiled, but immediately tried to hide it. He looked away for a little while before he spoke. "Is...is your cousin okay with this?"_

_"Kaoru and his roommate are gone for the week! They have a gig in __Quebec__."_

_"O-oh." Matthew seemed unsure, but Yong Soo could tell he was still excited. He remained silent for a minute or two, looking as though he was thinking it through very carefully. Eventually he asked, "This...is just for fun, right?"_

_Yong Soo nodded his head furiously. "Yep yep! Don't worry Matthew! I'll delete everything after we're done!" Sitting up straight the Korean placed a hand over his heart and the other beside him, ready to make an oath. "I promise to protect your image before you even have one!"_

_Matthew blinked at him in complete and utter surprise. Then, quite suddenly, he burst into laughter, making Yong Soo jump. It really was surprising; it was the loudest he had ever heard the Canadian laugh (meaning about normal volume for everyone else). It didn't last long however, for Matthew quickly slapped his hands over his mouth and turned away to hide the rest of his giggles. "I-I'm sorry. I just..." He paused, taking the hands away from his mouth. He then said something that Yong Soo didn't quite hear but if he had to guess: "You...sound like someone..."_

_Yong Soo blinked and leaned closer to the other. "Sorry? What did you say?"_

_"Um..." Matthew looked back at Yong Soo, his usual unsure look in place of his smile. "I...t-this is going to sound a li...little weird but um..." A faint pink spread across Matthew's face, making Yong Soo increasing curious. "Can...can you call me Mattie?"_

_The request was a little strange but he remembered thinking that it didn't really matter. Everyone was entitled to their quarks. "...Well okay!" Yong Soo agreed with a smile. "But only if you sing for me!"_

_Matthew also smiled and Yong Soo noted it to be the biggest he had ever seen on the young boy's face. "Y-yeah!"_

_"Okay, Mattie! Meet me after school and we'll go!"_

Snapping back into reality, he blinked at Matthew, who was regarding him curiously. Yong Soo looked down at the half eaten cone of ice cream, suddenly not wanting the dessert. He threw it in a nearby bin. "Yeah, it's about the studio."

"But, you, you deleted everything! R-right?"

"Of course! I did just like I said I would da~ze!" There was a small pause before he quickly blunted out, "but I copied a few of the files onto my computer! I'm sorry Mattie but they just sounded so _cool!_"

Matthew looked horrified. "But, _Yong Soo _I—"

"Then I must have left my computer open and Kaoru listened to the files and now he won't let me into the studio without you and—" He abruptly gasped, cutting himself off. What a minute. This was _astounding!_ "_Kaoru __wants__ you! _Kaoru's already in the music industry! Mattie, this could be your big break!" How could he have been so naïve? "That's what you want, isn't it?"

Matthew stared at him. It was obvious he didn't know just how great of an opportunity this really was! Not like he did anyhow. "W-w-well I...wh...what?"

"To create, da~ze!" Yong Soo began making fanatic gestures as he spoke, now fill of excitement. "To reach down to the deepest parts of your soul and convert it into funky beats for the world to hear!"

Oh yes! Perhaps he was looking at this the wrong way. What if this little accident turned out to be the best thing that could possibly happen for Matthew? What if, years from now, after Matthew became huge and famous and owned an amusement park, the articles would refer to this moment as the kick start to the career of one of the greatest surprise superstars to ever be? He looked to Matthew with a large smile though the longer he stared the more his smile slipped. He couldn't tell what the other was thinking, but for one reason or another he seemed almost...sad.

"I...I do want that to happen. More than almost an-anything! But I..." He stopped, the unsure hands wringing the bottom of his shirt even more so. He turned his gaze to the ground. "It wasn't supposed to happen before I..."

Yong Soo stared, his shoulders sinking along with his mood. "...Are you mad at me?"

Matthew didn't answer immediately, opting to stare adjust his jade flat cap. Eventually, "I...I should go."

_He is mad at me._ Yong Soo thought pitifully, a sinking feeling in his stomach. This was terrible, he didn't want to lose Matthew; he's the closest friend he's ever had and probably ever will have. "I'm really, really sorry Mattie. Please just...think about it?"

There was a small pause before Matthew tentatively nodded. He spared his friend a quick glance before he left, leaving Yong Soo to watch him go with the upmost guilt.

/ / / \ \ \

_Tappa – tapa. Tappa – tapa, Tappa – tapa, Tap. Tappa – tapa. Tappa – tapa, Tappa – tapa, Tap. Rrrrrrrtappa – tappa – tappa. Rrrrrrrrrtappa – tappa – tap._

"Would you _please_ stop that?" Arthur snapped. Removing his headphones he glared at his companion. "Christ, I can't even drown out that accused beating!"

The drumstick bounced against the wooden surface once more before it stilled. Moving both sticks to one hand Antonio removed his own headphones and looked to Arthur, an oblivious smile on his face. "Did you say something amigo? These noise cancelling headphones are great!"

Arthur sighed, returning his gaze back to the sketchpad on his lap. "Honestly Antonio, shouldn't you be studying?"

Antonio paused halfway through putting his headphones back on to blink blankly at his friend. "But I am studying."

"...You're listening to the audio files you made of yourself listing medical terms?" Antonio nodded and Arthur raised an eyebrow. "...You're drumming to yourself listing medical terms?"

"Every term gets a different beat!"

Arthur looked at the other strangely. "I honestly have no idea what to say to that."

Antonio just smiled again, not fully understanding Arthur's words. Arthur just shook his head before he continued idly sketching. He honestly wasn't even sure why he was here. Gilbert had called them earlier for band practice though shortly after they arrived he recalled what day it was and ran up to his room. Since then he and Antonio had just been bumming about aimlessly, not even doing anything band related, really (unless you counted Antonio's banging about 'band practice'). He really should be heading back home, he had countless things to do and not much time to do so but for some abnormal reason he found himself feeling rather lazy. He supposed Gilbert must be rubbing off him even more. Sigh…

_Knock Knock_

...

_Knock Knock_

Arthur and Antonio looked to one another. "Is someone knocking on the front door?" Arthur pondered aloud.

"Maybe they have the wrong house?" Antonio reasoned, unsure.

_Knock Knock_

The door opened above them and a moment later Ludwig poked his head down into the basement. "Are you expecting someone?"

The two shook their heads in a negative making Ludwig look back at the front door curiously. "Hm." He hummed before he left.

"I wonder who it could be." Antonio wondered aloud. "Everyone knows the lock's broken and I don't know if girl scouts sell cookies door to door anymore."

Arthur shrugged before he returned his attention back to the sketchpad in hand. "It may just be some Jehovah's witnesses. I'm sure Gilbert would get off antagonizing them." He sighed before he glanced at the hanging clock. "That so called leader of ours certainly had been gone a while."

Antonio reached over, nearly falling over as the other was just beyond arms length, and patted Arthur on the shoulder. "Don't fret! I'm sure when Gilbert is hungry he'll let us all know."

Arthur sighed again, forcing his attention back to the paper in front of him. "Yes I suppose so..."

The door above them opened once more and a smaller blond appeared on the stairs. "Thank you." Matthew said to the German who had led him there. He turned and smiled awkwardly to the pair. "Hello."

"Ah! Chiquito, hello!" Antonio responded flashing a smile that easily put Matthew's to shame. "I was wondering who would knock on the door!"

"I-I'm sorry. I didn't know I wasn't suppose t—"

"Oh no, you've done nothing wrong." Arthur interrupted, flipping his sketchpad closed. "Come down."

Matthew complied and climbed down the stairs though stopped at the foot of the steps awkwardly. "I…I came to talk to Gilbert actually but Ludwig says he's busy so—"

"Oh don't worry about that." Arthur interrupted once more. "That lazy oaf has stuck himself in his room for hours now. Just go up and talk to him, lad."

"Just go up? But…" Matthew looked to Antonio for guidance. Antonio grinned and shrugged.

"I'm sure it will all be good! We freeload all the time and nothing bad has happened to us!"

"It's not freeloading if we pay for half the groceries." Arthur corrected firmly, bringing a bewildered look to Antonio's face. "Anyhow, go on lad, and tell him to come down and eat something while you're there, eh?"

There was only a small pause before Matthew nodded and went off, leaving the two alone once more. "I wonder what the lad wants with Gilbert..." Arthur pondered aloud, tapping his pencil to his chin thoughtfully. He thought it was a little strange for the boy to arrive in person, couldn't he have just called? Francis wasn't restricting his calls was he? He wouldn't put it pass the perverted weirdo to do something as unnecessary as that.

Antonio leaned over to pat Arthur on the shoulder again, though this time he actually did fall onto the couch in his attempt. "Maybe it's a runaway thingy that only Gilbert can answer for him. Ha! What a small world it is for two with such similar pasts met each other, hm?"

"…Yes I suppose." Arthur replied half-heartedly. Seeing as he got his answer, Antonio smiled and sat upright, pulling his noise cancelling headphones over his ears once again. Arthur didn't mind, for nearly as soon as Antonio blocked himself out of the outside world his phone buzzed in his pocket. Glad for the distraction, he grabbed his phone and opened the text.

_Is Mathieu over at Gil's house?_

Hold on a moment this was Francis. How the hell did he know his number? Pushing that issue aside he replied back:

_Yes Matthew's here. Why are you texting me? I don't live here._

There was more he wanted to put in the message but he couldn't be bothered to put in the extra effort it would take to insult him. Not like the frog would get they were insults anyway, he would probably see it as some kind of non-existent sexual innuendo. His phone buzzed again and he opened the next one with a small sigh.

_You're there now are you not?_

…He couldn't argue with that. Just as he was about to put the phone away he got yet another text from Francis:

_I'm coming over. See you soon!_

Not if he could help it.

…

Darn it he was still too lazy. Even with thoughts of avoiding confrontation with the Frenchman fuelling his drive he couldn't bring himself to get up and drive back home. Well, looks like he was doomed to sit here and wait for the man to arrive.

Sigh.

/ / / \ \ \

_God, shit_, yes. _No! Gah-fuck!_

Good time he had realized what day it was today or he might have been completely screwed. Not that it really seemed to matter, seeing as his internet decided to be stupidly slow. _Godammit!_ Didn't the internet know that if he didn't get this shit up online he wouldn't get paid and if he didn't get paid he wouldn't be able to pay the internet bill in order for the stupid thing to continue existing? Stupid country and its slow fucking internet services. Fucking Canada. Fucking _Bell__._

A knock on the door temporary pulled his mind away from cussing everything internet related and he lazily lolled his head towards the door. Huh, a distraction. 'Bout time. He's been waiting for this for almost fifteen whole minutes now.

"Took you long enough!" He called towards the door.

…Silence.

Gilbert paused and raised an eyebrow, clearly confused. No witty retort back? No angry shouting, no yelling at him to 'get off his arse and answer the door'? Curious now, Gilbert heaved himself up and opened the door, revealing a wide eyed Matthew. Not expecting that certain person to be on the other side of his bedroom door Gilbert was momentary caught off guard and for several long moments the two simply stared at each other, each not sure what to do. After fully realizing that the boy in front of him was in fact Matthew Gilbert finally broke the silence. "Oh hey Blondie thought you were Artie preparing to shove burnt scones down my throat."

Frinkin' Arthur. You would think after a year he would get the hint and start ordering take out. Shaking his head Gilbert pushed the door opened a bit more before he shuffled back inside, glad that Matthew understood the unspoken invitation and stepped in shortly afterward. Moving back to the chair in front of his laptop Gilbert flopped himself down, sighing almost melodramatically. Thing was still uploading. He looked back to face Matthew, who was simply standing in the middle of the room wringing his shirt. "Make yourself extra comfy. Just give me a sec to finish up some shit." He then winked before he reluctantly turned back to his computer.

Wanting to get back to his distraction, a.k.a Matthew, as soon as possible Gilbert quickly opened up whatever programs he had yet to save and did just that before he pushed the laptop away and mentally yelled at it to be _better._ That over and done with he spun his chair around to focus on Matthew who had made himself quite comfortable on his bed. He was just about to ask what the young boy wanted when he found him transfixed with something hanging on his wall. Following his gaze Gilbert would help but smile at the picture. Pointing at it he said, "Bet you've never seen a more _awesome_ painting anywhere, have you?"

Matthew jumped at Gilbert's voice. Hm, it would seem the blond was more into the painting than he thought. "It's, um, really good."

"Fuck yeah it is!" Gilbert replied rather enthusiastically. The painting was of himself but that wasn't the reason why he had hung it on his wall so gleefully. Well, not the only reason anyway but more importantly it was the first and only capturing of his image that he had ever seen across any medium that actually showed just how _awesome_ he was. For that reason alone it was the best painting in the world; his awesomeness was not easily comprehendible. "It was Arthur who painted it y'know."

To that Matthew looked to him with wide eyes, making Gilbert laugh. Yeah, that was pretty much everyone's reactions when they heard. "He painted it back in high school, now he's some kind of high class artist or something. Has his shit in galleries and everything."

Matthew simply blinked before he looked back at the painting, making Gilbert sit there and wait for the questions to come. Knowing that the uptight British bassist was also an artist perplexed even the most open minded people and for that reason they bombarded the Prussian with questions as if to somehow make Arthur's profession untrue in their own minds. It was kind of annoying he had to admit though most of the time the questions ended when he would just start laughing at the stupidity of it all. So it didn't surprise him all when Matthew turned back to him and asked, "Why do you want to do music?"

…Oh. What?

Slightly taken back by the very sudden change in topic Gilbert would only blink and reply intelligently, "huh?"

Matthew turned his gaze to the floor, suddenly looking very nervous. "I was just wondering…why you decided to pr-pursue music…"

"…Oh. You gotta work on your segues, kid." Gilbert jabbed before he shrugged and decided to actually answer the question. "I didn't choose music. Music chose me as its beacon of awesomeness. Music is what keeps me up at night; music both agonizes me and fills me with the greatest pleasure that's ever been known to mankind. Music is my fucking everything, without it I might as well kill myself right here and now." He smiled. "Like it? That's what I'm gonna tell reporters when they interview me."

Matthew nodded, though it didn't seem as if he actually heard the question he was agreeing to. "…Can I ask you something else?"

Gilbert made a noise as if thinking it over. "Hmmm, I don't know. Two questions in one day? That's a little outrageous." He laughed when Matthew's eyes widened. "I'm just messing with you! C'mon, hit me with your best shot."

"O-oh. Okay."

Silence crept upon the two. Gilbert continued to sit and wait for Matthew's question as Matthew…did, well…not much of anything. After a tedious thirty seconds rolled by Gilbert decided he should say something. "So what's the—"

"Why did you runaway?"

Ah, so that's what the kid was so hesitant to ask. Fighting back a smile at his adorable behaviour, he leaned back in his chair and sighed. "Why did I run away…well it's not as exciting as your story. You sure you want to hear it?"

Slowly Matthew nodded, giving the albino in front of him his full attention. "I-if that's okay with you…"

Gilbert waved off the boy's timid nature. "Nah I don't mind." He paused to think about how to tell his story. After brief deliberation he decided to just start it at the beginning. "My parents were really young when they had me, I mean really young. Like, so young I'm surprised my mom was even able to get pregnant in the first place. Why the hell they had good old Luddy after me I'll never know. They made a lot of sacrifices to raise us, my dad's family disowned him and my mom had to quit high school to work. Hell, after Ludwig was born they even moved to a whole different country just to try and give us a better life—we're fromGermany, by the way. You know, lederhosen and Oktoberfest and all that awesome shit." He chuckled at his own stupid joke. "My parents wanted to raise us well but they weren't any good at it."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you know how some people just suck at things for no real reason? Like Artie, don't ask him to cook unless you want to experience vomiting for twelve hours straight and you don't _ever _want to see Toni do an impression of Al Pacino, it's _painful._"

Matthew simply titled his head and continued to stare at him expectantly. Gilbert sighed before he indulged him. "My parents were a little hardcore, always took what they thought to be good parenting techniques and took it a little too far. Don't think they knew the difference between an open handed or close handed 'slap'." He tried to wave off Matthew's sudden horror. "Really, really it wasn't like that, they thought that's how everyone raised their kids. They were young and stupid, and not that great at hiding the fact that our mare existence fucked up their teenage years. Which it did, not like we wanted it to but it did." Gilbert licked his lips and collected his thoughts. "Still not sure why the hell they even had us in the first place. If it were my decision, I say they should have offed us when they had the chance."

The look of horror on Matthew's features told him he had said the wrong thing. "P-Please don't talk like that! You deserve to live as much as a-anyone! Pleas do—"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, _whoa!" _Gilbert hurriedly interrupted. Yeah, he had definitely said the wrong thing. "You got the wrong idea! I can't kill myself! The world couldn't possibly handle my awesomeness leaving the earth just like that! Everyone would probably stroke out and die if that happened and I'm not going to be blamed for the extinction of the human race!"

Matthew stared at him for several long moments before his posture slowly began to relax. "I-I'm sorry…"

"Don't worry about it. You okay?"

Matthew slowly nodded. "Yeah…um…please continue."

Gilbert hesitated before he decided to skip his parent's antics and continue on. "I was about thirteen when I first tried to take Lud and leave but he refused to go, said our parents needed us as much as we needed them which, at that point, wasn't really that much. I stayed anyways; someone had to be there to make sure he didn't do anything stupid. About three years later we met our uncle and Ludwig and I actually ran away with him. Pretty fortunate for us cause our uncle is a rich mother fucker. Actually gave us this house after he moved back toGermanywith his wife. We've been here ever since." Gilbert spread his arms as if to display the space they were in. "Pretty fucking sweet, eh? Everything's paid off and everything, all we got to do is pay unities." Gilbert smiled largely; glad that he could always end his story on a positive note.

Matthew didn't seem as satisfied with the ending as Gilbert for barely a beat was skipped before he continued on.

"Why didn't you leave without Ludwig?"

Gilbert paused to think over his story. Didn't he already answer that? Nevertheless, "He's my younger brother so I guess since I'm the older brother I have to protect him or some shit. Can't do much protecting if I'm not there, right?

"But you could have left first and came back for him."

Gilbert scratched his chin. "Yeah, I thought about doing that but—"

"Why didn't you?"

Gilbert paused to stare at the unusually serious blond. Whoa, kid was getting a little too into his story here. "…If I just up and left my parent's great 'parenting skills' would all be dumped on him and than he'd turn out even more messed up than he is now." He chuckled at his own joke.

Matthew didn't laugh with him. "So…you stayed because you love him?"

Gilbert recoiled mockingly. "_Whoa! _Don't know if I'd go so far as to say I _love _him…" He trailed off when he saw his small act did nothing to lighten the suddenly serious mood. He frowned before he leaned back in his chair. What was up with this atmosphere? "Yeah. You could say I did it because I love him."

Matthew said nothing. He stared hard at something behind the Prussian and continued to wring his shirt into a wrinkled mess. Actually, looking at him now, he was a little on the pale side. "Matt, you okay?"

The question knocked Matthew out of whatever thoughts he was in. "…Yes. I'm f-fine. Sorry I…I have to go." Without even waiting for the other to speak Matthew stood and left, gently closing the door shut behind him.

Gilbert blinked at the door, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. Huh, what was _that _about? Maybe he shouldn't have told him that story, he vaguely remembered several people telling him to try and be more sensitive when around the young blond. Maybe he should have told him both he and Ludwig had made up with their parents and now had dinner with them at least once a month. Or maybe it was a good thing he didn't tell him that. Fuck he didn't know.

Wait shit, his documents.

He spun the chair around and pulled his laptop closer to himself, eager to see how the upload was coming along.

It was still going.

Gilbert slumped and groaned loudly.

* * *

**Thank you **RedCyanide, Ayla The Librarian, SchemingAlchemist, maximumride123, koosei, IchigoMelon, gabieblue, SaxyMisty, zero434, xxassassinxx18, MrsTrickster, Keroanne, Italiangurlinamessedupworld, Miss T Hyuga, Shimaki-33, Ellarose C, Dark, Empresss. Spiral, FANGIRL, curious alice, CanIHasAFryingPan, QuartzWillow, bleach-otaku, Asa-Taiyou, Iceestar, APH1168kittens, TheKillerJalapeno, Lovelolism, crazyhorse567 **and** Hetaliafangirl1113 **for the reviews!**

**See, this was my plan all along! Stop writing for years so that when I finally _do_update the story again I get all the reviews! Muhahah!**

**…No. No it really wasn't. I'm sorry for the wait everyone.**


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